Speaking of Maps: Ideology after the Storm

History and the Visual

In my visual rhetoric class with Dr. Neal during my undergrad, we read some Bakhtin on his theory of the utterance and it has definitely shaped how I address the question of how history shapes visual rhetoric:

"Each utterance refutes affirms, supplements, and relies upon the others, presupposes them to be known, and somehow takes them into account... Therefore, each kind of utterance is filled with various kinds of responsive reactions to other utterances of the given sphere of speech communication."


Like Bakhtin, I think that history is absolutely integral in shaping visual rhetoric. Every image that we view is viewed in the context of every image we've viewed previously, and all of our (both individually and collectively) past experiences. Every image that we create is created in the context of every image we've viewed previously, and all of our (both individually and collectively) past experiences.

I think one of the best examples of history shaping visual rhetoric can be seen when you take a look at the toothbrush mustache. It has been so tainted that most people don't even know it's called the toothbrush mustache, they just call it the Hitler Mustache.

Because of the history surrounding the mustache, it can be added to any image of a person, and everyone who views it can understand what you're arguing:

There are countless other examples of the Hitler mustache as argument in action, but I think these two get the point across. Slap the mustache on a picture, and because of its history, we all immediately know the argument that's being made.

Although, sometimes people decide to try and divorce the mustache from it's context, and it makes you wonder what they were thinking:

"I don't know what the hell he was thinking. I don't know what Hanes was thinking. It was just stupid." - Charles Barkley reacting to Michael's mustache fiasco. 

Sketching a Theory of VizRhet

     The exercises that we have done in class the past few weeks have moved me to think a lot about what we need to articulate a theory of visual rhetoric. A theory of visual rhetoric finds its place as a subtheory of a general theory of rhetoric. Where many of the basic concepts of rhetoric (audience, message), will be defined prior to approaching questions of the visual, we can theorize of visual as a particular species within the larger genus of a general rhetorical theory, which will itself be part of a larger, systematic notion of philosophy. I’d like to suggest three basic types of questions that we need to ask. I think a theory of visual rhetoric must begin with epistemology, address the difference between the visual and the verbal, and then identify distinctions among types of visuals.
Since visual rhetoric deals specifically with rhetoric as perceived through the eyes, a theory of visual rhetoric should deal with questions of epistemology. First of all, how reliable are our eyes and other senses? Is sensory input the beginning of knowledge or do there exist a priori categories which direct how we perceive our senses? I have a feeling how most of us in the class would answer that question (with the exception of Joe), but I think the first question of visual rhetoric will address the relationship of our senses to the knowledge that we hold or create.
Jumping forward a few steps in the process, a theory of visual rhetoric will have to explain the difference between the visual and the verbal. Why do we distinguish “verbal” (words) and “visual” when we also perceive words with our eyes? What makes them different, and how do we make the case for it?
From there, it remains to define different types and sub-types of visuals. So far in this course I have imagined a general group “visuals,” and identified two particular types - the image and the photograph. I distinguish between the two because an image can be made from scratch wheras a photograph must be “taken” of something that already exists. By no means are these the only two types of visuals, but we have dealt the most with them and when I think about theorizing, they are the types that come to mind.
This is just a rough sketch of a theory of visual rhetoric. But I hope I have illustrated something of the procedure I would follow - from epistemology, to a specific definition of visual rhetoric, to a discussion of types of visuals.

Go to Helvetica

I was satisfied, until I read this book, that the "Helvetica juggernaut" described in such films as Helvetica was a real phenomenon, and moreover, I had followed along as others allegorized it. At some point, it stopped being a typeface, and became a zeitgeist.  Helvetica, like the grid and Swiss Modernism in general, was a modernist project, full of deadly hubris, to make design intelligible to anyone, anywhere. It was a democratizing distillation of readability and spare minimalism. It was rational, and it was real. I saw it as the typographical equivalent to concepts like stickman (see below), where all elements were essential, and not a drop of ink was wasted. Tufte would be proud.

In the case of Helvetica, we know that several things were happening. The modern project was winding down, and gradually giving way to the postmodern, with its critique of universal knowing in favor of local, situated knowledge. This affected not only philosophy, but all sorts of areas of inquiry, including design. What could be seen as heroic (design making order of out chaos) began to be seen as totalitarian--the visual equivalent of a McDonalds culture. We know that computers were in their infancy, and desktop design nonexistent. Typefaces were bought by the case and set by hand, so attention had to be paid. So in this site of struggle, Helvetica was well-positioned to be a heroic figure.

But this book by Shaw changed my view, and it did so through a better understanding of history. I realized that Helvetica did not really become the "juggernaut" it is supposed to be until around the mid eighties. The problem, I learned, is that most people could not tell the difference between Helvetica and Standard (and to be fair, it's not easy), and confused them. This changes the whole narrative. Instead of Helvetica becoming the heroic (or villainous) typeface that erased all confused and brought clarity to the mess of the NY subway, Helvetica becomes a player that was brought in later, after most of the real work was done. 

So history matters, if only for its ability to complicate common interpretations of visuals. History gives us a narrative of how a certain visual has been understood in times past, which we can place in dialogue with current interpretations. It can also provide us with tools of interpretation. For instance, we can investigate how certain symbols are understood in a particular historical context, and that can enrich our current interpretation. Finally, the intellectual climate of an age (particularly when seen from afar) can shed light on how visuals should be interpreted.

Intertextuality and Vis Rhet

To be honest, I think history plays enough of a major role in visual rhetoric that a proper definition—or at least discussion of a definition—would not be adequate unless history is mentioned.  Our experiences, our community history, what we’ve seen, what’s important, what’s our values, what’s possible—these are all related to how we construct meaning in the world; thus, they contribute to how visuals become meaningful to us.

Intertextuality plays a major role in our understanding of images—the elements of other images working to create meaning (I’m just going to throw in the word gestalt in here to keep that in mind).  How would we then create meaning through intertextualtiy if there were not preceding images to re-appropriate, remix, or reproduce elements of it? But also, our recurring experiences with those elements associate them with emotions, thus values, which are connected to our community ideology and history.  The ideology travels through our history and are reshaped with new contexts, new situations.  These new contexts and new situations are part of a community history which shapes the ideology.  And, not to beat a dead horse here, ideology shapes how we understand visuals.

I feel it would be apt to use an image here as an example.

 The satire of this image of Romney is understood by understanding the elements of images that preceded this one.   Through intertextuatliy, we associate this picture with the Obama poster, but we recognize why its satire by knowing what the previous image meant and how this new image is being used: to exaggerate a unlikable characteristic of Romney.  The Obama poster exists in our community’s history and (depending on where you are on the political spectrum) values are associated with these images. The values, of course, are shaped by our experiences in our community.  So, history plays a large role in understanding this satire.

But there’s another aspect of history that I want to talk about: understanding a picture in its historical context.   

This image of John McCain, if created and used today as a form of argument, would be completely irrelevant considering McCain isn’t running for president anymore, but if we look at it in its historical context, we can better understand what the image meant for those voting in 2008.  While I’m discussing recent history that we can all still remember well, I want to emphasize older images that we may be viewing within a context that images may not have been meant for.  By not understanding those historical contexts, we may not be productively or fairly characterizing the intent.  However, this is me on my soapbox—as much as I say we should be doing this, the hoi polloi is not.  But it’s just something I thought we should be considering as visual analyzers.

Persuasion as Visual Rhetoric

Bret’s thoughts on the psychological aspects of visual rhetoric may provide an avenue to begin constructing a theory of the discipline. Hill provides us with the concepts of presence and vividness as the ways in which our minds respond to visuals (the rationalist, non-visual perspective mentioned in class being a notable exception). He posits that these cognitive reactions can stir our emotions to the point of heuristic processing, i.e., shortcut based thinking, making images persuasive. However, Blair counters Hill in his assertion that visual persuasion does not always amount to rhetoric. He argues that there must be some argumentative propositions (implicit and/or explicit) present so that the rhetor draws “…the viewer to participate in completing the construction of the argument and so in its own persuasion” (59). So, according to Blair, rhetors construct visual enthymemes. The visuals employed use their presence and vividness to persuade viewers of these argumentative propositions.

Incorporating persuasion and logical argument into visual rhetoric seems reasonable, but I’m not sure that I agree that every visually rhetorical artifact is in fact an argument. Playing off of Aristotle, Blair asserts “Rhetoric, as related to argument, is the use of the best means available to make the logic of the argument persuasive to the audience” (59). Blair’s emphasis on argument differs from Aristotle’s definition of rhetoric: “The faculty of observing, in any given case, the available means of persuasion." Aristotle’s definition leads me to think that argument is not necessary for rhetoric in general, and the visual in particular, but the emphasis should be placed on the phrase “in any given case.”

The phrase “in any given case,” requires a keen sense of the rhetorical situation and the audience a rhetor is addressing. If an audience is more likely to respond positively to a series of visuals with little argumentative propositions, it seems appropriate to leave logical argument out of an artifact. Argument is but one tool in the visual rhetoric toolbox; narrative and identification are two others (Thanks again, Bret). Knowing which of these tools to employ depends largely upon a rhetor’s particular situation, broader historical contexts (which have been constructed through discourses that employ visual and verbal texts), localized context, and their particular audience. As such, a rhetor can choose how many visuals to use, if any, what kind of visuals to employ, and for what purpose, based on the doxa of their audience.

I realize that currently I am lacking the aspect of circulation in this probably already shoddy theory. But I’m attempting to emphasize the importance of persuasion at a psychological level to visual rhetoric, while also acknowledging how individuals’ psyches are formed through constructed historical contexts to react to visuals in different ways. To perform “visual rhetoric,” we must make some assumptions about our audience(s) and employ appropriate visuals for the situation and context.

On History, Font, and Quantum Physics (ok... not quantum physics)

One way I see a big impact of history on visual rhetoric is the development of technologies that produce visual rhetoric and how those technologies have expanded and changed the possibilities of visual rhetoric. In Helvetica, there are several instances where screen printed signs were preferred to hand painted signs for their clarity and function and, as time marched on in the New York Subway system, technology would continue to change the way signs were created, such as the LED signs now being implemented.

What’s interesting to me is how the history of visual rhetoric is invisible. I’ve ridden on the NYC subway system with relative ease perhaps due in large part to some of the rhetorical choices made by sign and map makers that were largely concealed from me before I read this book. Too, I guess I have a tendency to think of visual rhetoric as a relatively new development, contingent on computer software and images displayed on screens. Through our investigation of historical artifacts, though, I see that this is not the case.  The history we’ve explored presents a sort of naturalized visual rhetoric – that is, we’ve being doing visual rhetoric for a long time and it seems to be a central form of the communication of social values, identity, and the construction of public and private spaces. The history of Helvetica in the NYC subway system really blurs the construction of history for me, too. In the earlier pictures, when the Modern typeface (which I had a difficult time distinguishing from Helvetica) was implemented and the broad black stripe began to appear, I was struck with how familiar and contemporary the signs looked, even though they weren’t the final rendition of the signs I’ve seen and read. It made the past feel more present (if that makes any sense).

But does history shape visual rhetoric or does visual rhetoric shape history? I can’t help but wonder. When we look at these artifacts, the Victorian floor plans and the samplers especially, we bring to our analysis the benefits and limitations of our own times. We identify the Victorian floor plans as gendered, class, and more than somewhat oppressive, compounding my negative view of Victorian times and values. I’m thinking of Sontag, too, and how these artifacts, although perhaps close to me (as I live in a home and engage in behaviors not unlike the ones described in these books), seem distanced from my own experiences. Somehow, these artifacts stand in for historical events and allow us to continually write a history that “will have been” (Zizek, cited in Helmers. I loved this idea).

I enjoyed Christine’s discussion of Helvetica and Curlz MT as font choices that reflect certain values. I’m a typography nerd in my heart. I don’t read Helvetica as utilitarian, although this is why it was ultimately chosen. Instead, I read it as if it’s sort of the hipster of fonts (probably because it lives in Brooklyn… I kid). I have to wonder now how much of that is historically imported or learned, however tacitly, from my encounters in the NYC subway system or from seeing it elsewhere (and once you know to look for Helvetica, it really is everywhere). I leave you with one of my favorite YouTube videos of all time: Font Conference. It’s a little silly, but I think pertinent to our discussion (and also good for a laugh). There’s another one (Font Fight) that opposes Helvetica and Ariel, which is also funny…. But I’ll resist the temptation to post both. 

What is History

Before I can discuss the role of history in shaping visual rhetoric, I'd have to define what history is. If we look at history as a series of past events, does history include people since people carry out the events? Does history only deal with communal history, or does it involve personal histories as well? In his blog, Ryan wrote about individual histories playing a large role in the reception of visual rhetoric. So, that is to say, an individual looking at a visual object taken outside of context would have to draw on his or her own historical experience to understand the rhetoric of the visual. It seems that personal history would be pretty different from what a high school history book recognizes as world history. Personal histories or experiences seem to work along with or against (textbook) world history. While peoples' interpretations of visual rhetoric depend on the meanings world history has assigned to visuals, one's own history can also influence the meanings conveyed by visuals. What you know from world history impacts what you see, but what you know from personal history can also change the way something was historically viewed. It seems that personal histories rewrite world history, and thus visual rhetoric is always evolving. 

I would argue that people embedded in history have shaped visual rhetoric. Bruce brought up the idea of the ichthys and how it was only identifiable as a Christian symbol to those who were in on the secret. However before that, the symbol was used in secular societies. Therefore, the Christians altered its historical rhetoric. Ryan brought up a similar case with the swastika since it was used outside of its original context or history and embedded with negative ideologies that were very different from the original positive ones it conveyed.  I feel like much of visual rhetoric depends upon the roles of viewers as insiders and outsiders. An image with historical meaning attached to it can be reappropriated to convey a completely different meaning. Only the people doing the reappropriating (the insiders) would understand the new meaning. Today, gang symbols could exemplify this since only insiders would know that these symbols indicate that a particular gang operates in an area. Gang symbols are rhetorical for gang members since they identify behind their symbols, and rival gangs may see other gangs' symbols as territorial warnings. Police may catch onto these symbols and advertise them to the public with negative stigma attached to them. In this way, the symbols would become rhetorical for outsiders since they would deter people away from areas where gangs operate. This could also change the way someone views a symbol. For example, the "Gangster Disciples" incorporate a star of David in their symbol, along with the letters, G,D and two pitchforks. People who are unaware that this is a gang symbol may associate it with the Jewish religion upon seeing it, since the star of David is historically tied to this religion. This would not seem like a dangerous symbol; however, by learning about its use as part of a gang symbol, the viewer uses personal history or knowledge to interpret the meaning conveyed by the sign differently. So it seems that personal history can work to reshape the rhetoric of visuals as it collides with a visual's original, historical rhetoric. 

I will leave you all with an insider's catalogue of street gang symbols so you can always be aware of pending danger in your surroundings. 

A theory of history

Posting late, as Logan noted last week, is never a very good idea, because my colleagues have already made so many excellent points, and now it’s up to me to contribute more than just handfuls of atta-boys. That said, in response to the prompt, “What is the role of history in shaping visual rhetoric?” I will attempt to make meaning.

After struggling to come up with an answer to this question all week, I’ve settled, at least for the moment, on the hypothesis that history is foundational to shaping visual rhetoric. By this I mean to suggest that visual rhetoric in all of its epistemologies, i.e., rhetoric as persuasion, argument, narrative, et al., requires exigence or, what Grassi calls ingenium, without which there would be no need for change, no urgency, no creation of the artifact. Ingenium is rooted in human need, from which a metaphor is created (a word or utterance for Grassi), and a Herculean act is performed to create meaning. Applying Grassi’s notion of urgency to the visual, rhetorical artifact, the insinuation is that there must be some need or lack that forces its creation. Since the act of creation is located in need, cannot the assumption also be made that the need is already historical since the Herculean act--the moment of creation--is also rooted in history, albeit immediate?

As Logan points out, “for Bitzer, rhetoric is situational, contextual, performs some text, alters reality, and is always persuasive.” Again, without ingenium, there is no need to alter reality, no need to persuade, and therefore no need of rhetoric, if we use this definition. The urgency is always located in history, hence my claim that history is the foundation for all rhetoric, including the visual.

Logan also notes that visual rhetoric theory “must pertain to artifacts that can be perceived by the eyes (this is important, because up until now, it seems like we’ve assumed that all people can see or that all people see in the same way),” which is a concern I have with Lacan’s mirror theory as well--how does one make meaning if one is born without sight, in Lacan’s version of “truth”? But I digress...

This makes sense to me at the moment, but it’s closing in on 1 a.m., so it remains to be  seen how it holds up in broad daylight.

To Theory...maybe.

What is required for an adequate theory of visual rhetoric?

Though I am pretty sure I am, as of yet, far from qualified to truly answer this question... I'm going to give it a go anyway.

For me, a theory of visual rhetoric is situated in a space of interaction. Here, I tap into a section of Blair I found most useful when he states "visual arguments are typically enthymemes--arguments with gaps left to be filled in by the participation of the audience" (53). A theory of visual rhetoric must negotiate the space wherein the audience fills in the gaps a visual sets forth. This, however, begs the question of how we define rhetoric. As argument? As persuasion? A visual artifact can do both, either or neither of these things. In case you thought this was going to be a clear cut theory... clearly, that is not the path this blog is taking.

In addition to interaction, I see a need for boundaries...even though those are my least favorite of things (they frequently are binaries... sigh). But, we cannot say everything is visual. There has to be some sort of gatekeeper here. I think I am most worried about how we can explore words as visual artifacts without stepping to far into an analysis of the content (what is "said" vs. what is "shown").  Written text most definitely has a place within a theory of visual rhetoric because as Hill points out "the visual aspects of writing can have as much to do with the effectiveness of one's message as choosing an appropriate tone or sentence structure" (122). Visual written texts have meaning beyond what they "say". This makes me think about all the political signs that currently line the roads and yards. They are "written texts" but they are a visual artifact. They have strong messages. For instance... how about this one:

Here. One single word is conveying a visual message?/argument?/persuasion?. Without additional content, we know this is a campaign sign for Obama/Biden '12. But where do we draw the line for written texts as visual artifacts? How many "words" is too many before we are study a written text? This is where the boundary  might prove useful... at least as we try to find stable ground.

I also think it is important when laying the foundation of a theory to think about the different places we can theorize from or about... Are we creating a theory of visual rhetoric as producers of visually rhetorical artifacts... or are we creating a theory for the analysis of visual rhetoric. Or... are those pesky boundaries less rigid than that. Do these two positions within the theory interact with one another and inform one another? 

As we saw with Berger, we cannot ignore issues of ambiguity. An adequate theory of visual rhetoric needs to explore how the rhetorical situation is informed by the points of ambiguity. These are points of meaning making. These are places of rhetorical potential.  Here... history and context are key components of how visual rhetoric can explore and frame ambiguity.

As if thinking about visual artifacts as both "images" (not quite the right word) and written texts wasn't enough, a theory of visual rhetoric must also negotiate the space where they interact with each other to create a visual that relies upon both. For me, an example of this can be found in comics strips and memes.  So, I shall leave you with a meme. Of course, the context (the debate) heavily informs the effectiveness of this meme. 

Theorize

An adequate theory of visual rhetoric must account for the production of an image, the image's reception, and the circumstances by which image came into viewing (circulation). 

Production

We haven't spent as much time with this as I thought we would. Some of our readings and discussions have pertained the role of elements within a piece. In Foss's definition of rhetoric as an area of focus, she discuss the nature of the artifact -- the substantive and stylistic features of an artifact that are seen in the presented elements (materiality and arrangement) and the suggested elements (elements that are inferred by the reader). I am calling this part of Foss's discussion as related to the production of rhetorical images, because a rhetor is making choices about elements in the artifact. Goggin's discussion of needlepoint expands Foss's gloss of materiality (medium, space and color) by using needlepoint to suggest that the overlap between visual and verbal resides in the notion of semiotic resources. Goggin's rhetor learns what semiotic resources are available and how to use them in the context of the cultural, political, and social world that shapes the rhetor's ability to access and practice rhetoric. Goggin's rhetor is situated whereas Foss's rhetor seems to ignore what it means to compose. Helmers, Sontag, and Berger nod to the rhetor that is producing images and the kinds of choices that a rhetor makes when producing images.

Overall, I am dissatisfied with the lack of attention spent on production by these authors. Maybe it is the nature of the discipline and the way that we accumulate knowledge -- we read and study texts. It seems like because we have been interested in composing processes in the past and have used some of the rhetorical canon to figure some things out about the production of texts, we would be interested in the production of rhetorical images and the composing process of the rhetor. Maybe I am conflating rhetoric and composition.

Reception

We have spent a ton of time talking about the role of visuals in the world, meaning-making with visuals, and interpretation.

Visual rhetoric has an audience, and it encourages change in that audience by challenging, reinforcing, de-emphasizing, or complicating positions/propositions that the audience draws from to make decisions or to act. Some of this comes from Bitzer. Some comes from Barton and Barton. Bitzer emphasizes the notion of positive modification through persuasion. Barton and Barton seem to open that idea up a little by illustrating the use of maps to reinforce privileged values by de-emphasizing or outright neglecting less favorable values, people, and realities. I'm drawing from Sontag, Berger, and Helmers to suggest that images complicate. Sontag suggests that photographs are "inexhaustible invitations to deduction, speculation, and fantasy" (23). Berger suggest a similar notion in his account of the role of ambiguity in the photo where meaning-making is a response to the presence of the known and the unknown (89). Meaning occurs in the process of narrativizing the photograph, accounting for its certainty and lending "a past and a present" to its ambiguity (Berger 89). Helmers suggests that the meaning of an image changes across viewings, and the image does not necessarily need to be in front of the viewer for a change in meaning. The viewer only has to recall the memory of a viewing (84). Associated with these ideas is the concept of the effectiveness of an image to change or present or move the viewer. I'm leaving people out.

Circulation

How, where, and through what medium an image circulates has profound effects on the rhetoric of images. Helmers' second frame, Interfacing Nature, touches on the idea of a framing an image. Her subject, fine art, is a little different than antifacts that function as visual rhetoric like commercials or cartoons or graphs, because people have to come and see the piece. Other pieces have treated circulation as associated with the purpose of the piece. Images that are made to challenge an ideology like LUNPFM or the Rockwell paintings are distributed widely. The pieces by Lucaites and the piece dealing with Norman Rockwell discuss images that are reproduced and circulated in larger works. In the case of Rockwell, he was publishing in magazines. LUNPFM was a book. Pieces that are more performative like the samplers in Goggin's piece have a more narrow circulation. 

And So

There are a couple of things missing. Reception and related acts of interpretation have been sufficiently covered in my mind. A theory of visual rhetoric that I would like to see would make use of the canons with circulation as a sixth concern. I think chronologically, so a theory that uses the canons would address all of the writing events that happen before the piece is received by a viewer. So a theory that made us of the canons might start to address production, an activity that is absent or only implied in the work that we have read. I think that the groundwork has been laid for the kind of theory I am proposing. I see Goggin's semiotic resources are related to invention and Foss's present elements related to arrangement. I see Sontag's kinds of acquisition are related to style in that the kind of acquisition that occurs -- personal, consumer, and informational -- is indicative of the photo's subject and what kind of audience is present.

This is just a start.

Imagine a history with Curlz MT

What is the role of history in shaping visual rhetoric? 

I’m hoping to expand this question a bit and offer an answer that shows a multidirectional perspective.  In sum, I see history shaping visual rhetoric and visual rhetoric shaping history.

In Helvetica and the New York Subway System, Paul Shaw outlines the twists and turns associated with Helvetica typeface, a journey that spans almost a century, with Helvetic being deemed the official typeface for the NY City subway system in 1989 (95).  Shaw explains that, upon its initial release to the American public in 1963, Helvetic was promoted for its legibility, uniformity, and flawless color (57).  From the present year of 2012, we can read these three characteristics as what was visually valuable at the time: clarity and conciseness. When we see the signs created during this time and read what was written about these visual artifacts, we form present-day conceptions of the standards and values of the 1960s.  Here, visual rhetoric shapes our understanding of history.

Imagine, for a moment, if, in the 1960s, Helvetica had been criticized for these same qualities.  Imagine that Helvetica was called boring, mind-numbing, and rigid. Instead, a font such as Curlz MT was praised for its elegance, fluidity, and expressiveness and this font was pushed as the standard font for the NY Subway System.  If this were the case, we would look back upon this period in history with very different conceptions about what was visually important and valuable during this time.  The narrative we might construct about the emphasis on Curlz MT would undoubtedly be different than the narrative Shaw tells based on Helvetica. Our understanding of the history and the values/goals espoused would be vastly different.

I agree with a comment Bruce made: “In all likelihood, it would appear as if a visual artifact is inseparable from its history when doing analysis.”  I think it’s also important to recognize that this is not a unidirectional relationship with only the history/context impacting the creation of a visual artifact. Rather, this is a multidirectional relationship. Yes, history/context does impact a visual artifact, but also, the visual artifact impacts conceptions of history.  We form conclusions about a specific period in time based on the visual artifacts produced during this time.  We understand a little bit about the NY City culture from the 1960s-1990s based on the struggles/battles we read about in Shaw’s text. There was clearly an emphasis on control, uniformity, and standardization. These efforts at standardizing the signs were aimed at avoiding “a visual mess” (17).  Based on the visual artifacts we see in Shaw’s book, we can understand what would constitute “a visual mess” during this time, and, conversely, what would be deemed a “coherent” sign system (18).  So, while the context/history of the time period definitely impacts the signs created (and not created), the signs themselves serve to impact our current understanding of the historical time period.

Toward a Theory of Visual Rhetoric

What is required for an adequate theory of visual rhetoric?

I can't help feel like this is one of those questions that we're all trying desperately not to approach too directly. After all, how we define visual rhetoric is, as Logan stated, very contingent upon the way in which we define rhetoric. And to me, that seems to be one of the biggest challenges in developing any cohesive theory or framework. After all, how are we looking to define rhetoric? As a method of persuasion? A way of identifying/correcting misunderstandings? A way of reaching a common point of acceptance on a topic? Or as the kind of discourse that arises as a result of (and results in) rhetorical situations? At the same time, when thinking of rhetoric, is there an overt difference between written, aural, or visual rhetoric? 

Each form of rhetoric is dependent upon a communication of information between/among individuals, and when we do strive to make clear a point or engage a particular situation, rarely are we only relying upon a single faculty. I'm reminded of Fleckenstein's Embodied Literacies and the idea that words are images--or sound images that draw heavily upon our own embodied experiences and knowledges. I realize at this point that I'm seemingly dodging the question and dancing along the fine line of saying "There isn't a way of creating such a theory," but that's not my point or my perspective. I simply think that we're always in the dangerous position of narrowing our definitions to far or leaving them so expansive that they lose meaning or purpose. 

If we look at visual rhetoric as something which operates on a psychological level, then it really does extend somewhat beyond the simple level of the visual--of that which can be seen by the eyes--because it involves interpretation and meaning making in ways that include and expand beyond what is actually seen. The experience of seeing then becomes one of connecting and expanding contexts that cross the borders of the alphabetic, visual, aural, and tactile. So really, then, we're looking at isolating a larger part of rhetorical meaning when we seek to define a theory of visual rhetoric. Then, along with setting boundaries for visual rhetoric, we also need to allow the connections and bridges that connect it to rhetoric as a larger thing (with all its complexities). 

So we need to distinguish what visual rhetoric accomplishes--what it can do--something which our preliminary propositions have started. We need to account for the various ways in which visuals can present/shape meaning -- narrative, argumentation, identification. We also need to develop a critical set of terms which we can collaboratively define and accept (with room for modification and eventual revision, of course), so that we can use those terministic screens as a way of interrogating the work that visuals do.  And, to agree with Logan just once more, I think that the question of affordances and limitations are of particular interest, strictly because they would help to define the kind of work visuals do in connection with rhetoric as a larger process, allowing us better insight as to the way in which we make meaning from visuals and symbols. In this way, we might better understand the landscape of semiotic meanings that are available to deploy in a rhetorical situation and how those semiotic domains overlap and interact.

History & Visual Rhetoric

I will attempt a comprehensible answer to the question: what is the role of history in shaping visual rhetoric?

History, I believe, plays a vital role in shaping visual rhetoric. Let me draw on Berger to support that claim:

In life, meaning is not instantaneous. Meaning is discovered in what connects, and cannot exist without development. Without a story, without an unfolding, there is no meaning. Facts, information, do not in themselves constitute meaning. Facts can be fed into a computer and become factors in a calculation. No meaning, however, comes out of computers, for when we give meaning to an event, that meaning is a response, not only to the known, but also to the unknown: meaning and mystery are inseparable, and neither can exist without the passing of time…When we find a photograph meaningful, we are lending it a past and a future.  (89)

So, as Berger notes, meaning is something created by way of history, which is a continuous, connected development of a story (and thus of meaning itself): this both on an individual and on a collective basis. If it is true, like Berger says, that meaning cannot be created instantaneously, then it would follow that one must draw on their knowledge of/experiences from history to interpret images. Therefore, even for familiar images such as:

 one must draw on his or her prior knowledge of poverty, photography, and photographs that depict poverty in such a way. This all affects how accepting or resistant to the rhetoric of the visual the viewer will be. For example, the viewer’s personal history with poverty (e.g. first-hand experience, relief/volunteer work, personal acquaintances with impoverished people, ect.) will affect how the viewer is impacted/persuaded by the visual. If there is only a generic understanding of poverty (e.g. a “textbook” understanding) then, perhaps, the rhetoric of the visual will not elicit an action, or at least it will likely not elicit the same reaction. In the same way, a viewer’s historical experience/understanding/perception of photography and, more specifically, the genre of poverty photography (if I can call it that) will tremendously affect the outcome of the response to the visual. So, we can see that individual history plays a large part in the interpretation and reception of visual rhetoric.

Moreover, communal history plays a large part in the reception of visuals, I would wager. Take this image for instance:

Depending on what culture you were born into, the swastika might have very different meanings. In Asian cultures, it is a religious symbol of peace and harmony. Buddhists and Hindis alike display them proudly in their architecture and art. In Western cultures, the swastika is almost unanimously viewed a symbol of flagrant hatred and oppression. No matter that the Nazis appropriated the ancient symbol from Asian cultures, if you grew up in American, chances are the overpowering message you receive from this is linked back to its history in WWII, an impression you gain from the collective of Western culture. Admittedly, I’m not entirely sure how well this last example works, because I’m not sure how rhetorical it is anymore—i.e., does it really give the viewer agency to interpret it in any other way than the one I have already mentioned? Nonetheless, I think (hope) it gets at the idea of how collective history can dramatically influence the reception/impact of a visual that is rhetorical.