• Difficult Heritage

    The Royal Institute of Art in Stockholm and the University of Basel are collaborating in the organization of the international summer program Difficult Heritage. Coordinated by the Decolonizing Architecture Course from Sweden and the Critical Urbanism course from Switzerland, the program takes place at #Borgo_Rizza (Syracuse, Italy) from 30 August to 7 September 2021, in coordination with Carlentini Municipality, as well as the local university and associations.
    The program is constituted by a series of lectures, seminars, workshop, readings and site visits centered around the rural town of Borgo Rizza, build in 1940 by the ‘#Ente_della_colonizzazione’ established by the fascist regime to colonize the south of Italy perceived as backward and underdeveloped.
    The town seems a perfect place for participants to analyze, reflect and intervene in the debate regarding the architectural heritage associated to painful and violent memories and more broadly to problematize the colonial relation with the countryside, especially after the renew attention due the pandemic.
    The summer program takes place inside the former ‘entity of colonization’ and constitutes the first intensive study period for the Decolonizing Architecture Advanced Course 2020/21 participants.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0jY9q1VR3E

    #mémoire #héritage #Italie #Sicile #colonialisme #Italie_du_Sud #fascisme #histoire #architecture #Libye #Borgo_Bonsignore #rénovation #monuments #esthétique #idéologie #tabula_rasa #modernisation #stazione_sperimentale_di_granicoltura #blé #agriculture #battaglia_del_grano #nationalisme #grains #productivité #propagande #auto-suffisance #alimentation #Borgo_Cascino #abandon #ghost-town #villaggio_fantasma #ghost_town #traces #conservation #spirale #décolonisation #défascistisation #Emilio_Distretti

    –-
    ajouté à la métaliste sur le colonialisme italien :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/871953

    via @cede qui l’a aussi signalé sur seenthis : https://seenthis.net/messages/953432

    • Architectural Demodernization as Critical Pedagogy: Pathways for Undoing Colonial Fascist Architectural Legacies in Sicily

      The Southern question

      In 1952, #Danilo_Dolci, a young architect living and working in industrial Milan, decided to leave the North – along with its dreams for Italy’s economic boom and rapid modernization – behind, and move to Sicily. When he arrived, as he describes in his book Banditi a Partinico (The Outlaws of Partinico, 1956), he found vast swathes of rural land brutally scarred by the war, trapped in a systematic spiral of poverty, malnutrition and anomie. After twenty years of authoritarian rule, Italy’s newly created democratic republic preserved the ‘civilising’ ethos established by the fascist regime, to develop and modernize Sicily. The effect of these plans was not to bridge the gap with the richer North, but rather, to usher in a slow and prolonged repression of the marginalised poor in the South. In his book, as well as in many other accounts, Dolci collected the testimonies of people in Partinico and Borgo di Trappeto near Trapani, western Sicily.1, Palermo: Sellerio Editore, 2009.] Living on the margins of society, they were rural labourers, unemployed fishermen, convicted criminals, prostitutes, widows and orphans – those who, in the aftermath of fascism, found themselves crushed by state violence and corruption, by the exploitation of local notables and landowners, and the growing power of the Mafia.

      Dolci’s activism, which consisted of campaigns and struggles with local communities and popular committees aimed at returning dignity to their villages, often resulted in confrontations with the state apparatus. Modernization, in this context, relied on a carceral approach of criminalisation, policing and imprisonment, as a form of domestication of the underprivileged. On the one hand, the South was urged to become like the North, yet on the other, the region was thrown further into social decay, which only accelerated its isolation from the rest of the country.

      The radical economic and social divide between Italy’s North and South has deep roots in national history and in the colonial/modern paradigm. From 1922, Antonio Gramsci branded this divide as evidence of how fascism exploited the subaltern classes via the Italian northern elites and their capital. Identifying a connection with Italy’s colonisation abroad, Gramsci read the exploitation of poverty and migrant labour in the colonial enterprise as one of ‘the wealthy North extracting maximum economic advantage out of the impoverished South’.2 Since the beginning of the colonisation of Libya in 1911, Italian nationalist movements had been selling the dream of a settler colonial/modern project that would benefit the underprivileged masses of southern rural laborers.

      The South of Italy was already considered an internal colony in need of modernization. This set the premise of what Gramsci called Italy’s ‘Southern question’, with the southern subalterns being excluded from the wider class struggle and pushed to migrate towards the colonies and elsewhere.3 By deprovincialising ‘the Southern question’ and connecting it to the colonial question, Gramsci showed that the struggle against racialised and class-based segregation meant thinking beyond colonially imposed geographies and the divide between North and South, cities and countryside, urban labourers and peasants.

      Gramsci’s gaze from the South can help us to visualise and spatialise the global question of colonial conquest and exploitation, and its legacy of an archipelago of colonies scattered across the North/South divide. Written in the early 1920s but left incomplete, Gramsci’s The Southern Question anticipated the colonizzazione interna (internal colonization) of fascism, motivated by a capital-driven campaign for reclaiming arable land that mainly effected Italy’s rural South. Through a synthesis of monumentalism, technological development and industrial planning, the fascist regime planned designs for urban and non-urban reclamation, in order to inaugurate a new style of living and to celebrate the fascist settler. This programme was launched in continuation of Italy’s settler colonial ventures in Africa.

      Two paths meet under the roof of the same project – that of modernization.

      Architectural colonial modernism

      Architecture has always played a crucial role in representing the rationality of modernity, with all its hierarchies and fascist ramifications. In the Italian context, this meant a polymorphous and dispersed architecture of occupation – new settlements, redrawn agricultural plots and coerced migration – which was arranged and constructed according to modern zoning principles and a belief in the existence of a tabula rasa. As was the case with architectural modernism on a wider scale, this was implemented through segregation and erasure, under the principle that those deemed as non-modern should be modernized or upgraded to reach higher stages of civilisation. The separation in the African colonies of white settler enclaves from Indigenous inhabitants was mirrored in the separation between urban and rural laborers in the Italian South. These were yet another manifestation of the European colonial/modern project, which for centuries has divided the world into different races, classes and nations, constructing its identity in opposition to ‘other’ ways of life, considered ‘traditional’, or worse, ‘backwards’. This relation, as unpacked by decolonial theories and practices, is at the core of the European modernity complex – a construct of differentiations from other cultures, which depends upon colonial hegemony.

      Taking the decolonial question to the shores of Europe today means recognising all those segregations that also continue to be perpetuated across the Northern Hemisphere, and that are the product of the unfinished modern and modernist project. Foregrounding the impact of the decolonial question in Europe calls for us to read it within the wider question of the ‘de-modern’, beyond colonially imposed geographical divides between North and South. We define ‘demodernization’ as a condition that wants to undo the rationality of zoning and compartmentalisation enforced by colonial modern architecture, territorialisation and urbanism. Bearing in mind what we have learned from Dolci and Gramsci, we will explain demodernization through architectural heritage; specifically, from the context of Sicily – the internal ‘civilisational’ front of the Italian fascist project.

      Sicily’s fascist colonial settlements

      In 1940, the Italian fascist regime founded the Ente di Colonizzazione del Latifondo Siciliano (ECLS, Entity for the Colonization of the Sicilian Latifondo),4 following the model of the Ente di Colonizzazione della Libia and of colonial urban planning in Eritrea and Ethiopia. The entity was created to reform the latifondo, the predominant agricultural system in southern Italy for centuries. This consisted of large estates and agricultural plots owned by noble, mostly absentee, landlords. Living far from their holdings, these landowners used local middlemen and hired thugs to sublet to local peasants and farmers who needed plots of land for self-sustenance.5 Fascism sought to transform this unproductive, outdated and exploitative system, forcing a wave of modernization. From 1940 to 1943, the Ente built more than 2,000 homesteads and completed eight settlements in Sicily. These replicated the structures and planimetries that were built throughout the 1930s in the earlier bonifica integrale (land reclamation) of the Pontine Marshes near Rome, in Libya and in the Horn of Africa; the same mix of piazzas, schools, churches, villas, leisure centres, monuments, and a Casa del Fascio (fascist party headquarters). In the name of imperial geographical unity, from the ‘centre’ to the ‘periphery’, many of the villages built in Sicily were named after fascist ‘martyrs’, soldiers and settlers who had died in the overseas colonies. For example, Borgo Bonsignore was named after a carabinieri (military officer) who died in the Battle of Gunu Gadu in 1936, and Borgo Fazio and Borgo Giuliano after Italian settlers killed by freedom fighters in occupied Ethiopia.

      The reform of the latifondo also sought to implement a larger strategy of oppression of political dissent in Italy. The construction of homesteads in the Sicilian countryside and the development of the land was accompanied by the state-driven migration of northern labourers, which also served the fascist regime as a form of social surveillance. The fascists wanted to displace and transform thousands of rural laborers from the North – who could otherwise potentially form a stronghold of dissent against the regime – into compliant settlers.6 Simultaneously, and to complete the colonizing circle, many southern agricultural workers were sent to coastal Libya and the Horn of Africa to themselves become new settlers, at the expense of Indigenous populations.

      All the Sicilian settlements were designed following rationalist principles to express the same political and social imperatives. Closed communities like the Pontine settlements were ‘geometrically closed in the urban layout and administratively closed to farmers, workmen, and outside visitors as well’.7 With the vision of turning waged agrarian laborers into small landowners, these borghi were typologically designed as similar to medieval city enclaves, which excluded those from the lower orders.

      These patterns of spatial separation and social exclusion were, unsurprisingly, followed by the racialisation of the Italian southerners. Referring to a bestiary, the propaganda journal Civiltà Fascista (Fascist Civilisation) described the Pontine Marshes as similar to ‘certain zones of Africa and America’, ‘a totally wild region’ whose inhabitants were ‘desperate creatures living as wild animals’.8 Mussolini’s regime explicitly presented this model of modernization, cultivation and drainage to the Italian public as a form of warfare. The promise of arable land and reclaimed marshes shaped an epic narrative which depicted swamps and the ‘unutilised’ countryside as the battlefield where bare nature – and its ‘backward inhabitants’ – was the enemy to be tamed and transformed.

      However, despite the fanfare of the regime, both the projects of settler colonialism in Africa and the plans for social engineering and modernization in the South of Italy were short-lived. As the war ended, Italy ‘lost’ its colonies and the many Ente were gradually reformed or shut down.9 While most of the New Towns in the Pontine region developed into urban centres, most of the fascist villages built in rural Sicily were meanwhile abandoned to a slow decay.

      Although that populationist model of modernization failed, the Sicilian countryside stayed at the centre of the Italian demographic question for decades to come. Since the 1960s, these territories have experienced a completely different kind of migration to that envisaged by the fascist regime. Local youth have fled unemployment in huge numbers, migrating to the North of Italy and abroad. With the end of the Second World War and the colonies’ return to independence, it was an era of reversed postcolonial migration: no longer white European settlers moving southwards/eastwards, but rather a circulatory movement of people flowing in other directions, with those now freed from colonial oppression taking up the possibility to move globally. Since then, a large part of Sicily’s agrarian sector has relied heavily on seasonal migrant labour from the Southern Hemisphere and, more recently, from Eastern Europe. Too often trapped in the exploitative and racist system of the Italian labour market, most migrants working in areas of intensive agriculture – in various Sicilian provinces near the towns of Cassibile, Vittoria, Campobello di Mazara, Caltanissetta and Paternò – have been forced out of cities and public life. They live isolated from the local population, socially segregated in tent cities or rural slums, and without basic services such as access to water and sanitation.

      As such, rural Sicily – as well as vast swathes of southern Italy – remain stigmatised as ‘insalubrious’ spaces, conceived of in the public imagination as ‘other’, ‘dangerous’ and ‘backward’. From the time of the fascist new settlements to the informal rural slums populated by migrants in the present, much of the Sicilian countryside epitomises a very modern trope: that the South is considered to be in dire need of modernization. The rural world is seen to constitute an empty space as the urban centres are unable to deal with the social, economic, political and racial conflicts and inequalities that have been (and continue to be) produced through the North/South divides. This was the case at the time of fascist state-driven internal migration and overseas settler colonial projects. And it still holds true for the treatment of migrants from the ex-colonies, and their attempted resettlement on Italian land today.

      Since 2007, Sicily’s right-wing regional and municipal governments have tried repeatedly to attain public funding for the restoration of the fascist settlements. While this program has been promoted as a nostalgic celebration of the fascist past, in the last decade, some municipalities have also secured EU funding for architectural restoration under the guise of creating ‘hubs’ for unhoused and stranded migrants and refugees. None of these projects have ever materialised, although EU money has financed the restoration of what now look like clean, empty buildings. These plans for renovation and rehousing echo Italy’s deepest populationist anxieties, which are concerned with managing and resettling ‘other’ people considered ‘in excess’. While the ECLS was originally designed to implement agrarian reforms and enable a flow of migration from the north of the country, this time, the Sicilian villages were seen as instrumental to govern unwanted migrants, via forced settlement and (an illusion of) hospitality. This reinforces a typical modern hierarchical relationship between North and South, and with that, exploitative metropolitan presumptions over the rural world.

      The Entity of Decolonization

      To imagine a counter-narrative about Sicily’s, and Italy’s, fascist heritage, we presented an installation for the 2020 Quadriennale d’arte – FUORI, as a Decolonizing Architecture Art Research (DAAR) project. This was held at the Palazzo delle Esposizioni in Rome, the venue of the Prima mostra internazionale d’arte coloniale (First International Exhibition of Colonial Art, 1931), as well as other propaganda exhibitions curated by the fascist regime. The installation aims to critically rethink the rural towns built by the ECLS. It marks the beginning of a longer-term collaborative project, the Ente di Decolonizzazione or Entity of Decolonization, which is conceived as a transformative process in history-telling. The installation builds on a photographic dossier of documentation produced by Luca Capuano, which reactivates a network of built heritage that is at risk of decay, abandonment and being forgotten. With the will to find new perspectives from which to consider and deconstruct the legacies of colonialism and fascism, the installation thinks beyond the perimeters of the fascist-built settlements to the different forms of segregations and division they represent. It moves from these contested spaces towards a process of reconstitution of the social, cultural and intimate fabrics that have been broken by modern splits and bifurcations. The project is about letting certain stories and subjectivities be reborn and reaffirmed, in line with Walter D. Mignolo’s statement that ‘re-existing means using the imaginary of modernity rather than being used by it. Being used by modernity means that coloniality operates upon you, controls you, forms your emotions, your subjectivity, your desires. Delinking entails a shift towards using instead of being used.’10 The Entity of Decolonization is a fluid and permanent process, that seeks perpetual manifestations in architectural heritage, art practice and critical pedagogy. The Entity exists to actively question and contest the modernist structures under which we continue to live.

      In Borgo Rizza, one of the eight villages built by the Ente, we launched the Difficult Heritage Summer School – a space for critical pedagogy and discussions around practices of reappropriation and re-narrativisation of the spaces and symbols of colonialism and fascism.11 Given that the villages were built to symbolise fascist ideology, how far is it possible to subvert their founding principles? How to reuse these villages, built to celebrate fascist martyrs and settlers in the colonial wars in Africa? How to transform them into antidotes to fascism?

      Borgo Rizza was built in 1940 by the architect Pietro Gramignani on a piece of land previously expropriated by the ECLS from the Caficis, a local family of landowners. It exhibits a mixed architectural style of rationalism and neoclassical monumentalism. The settlement is formed out of a perimeter of buildings around a central protected and secured piazza that was also the main access to the village. The main edifices representing temporal power (the fascist party, the ECLS, the military and the school) and spiritual power (the church) surround the centre of the piazza. To display the undisputed authority of the regime, the Casa del Fascio took centre stage. The village is surrounded on all sides by eucalyptus trees planted by the ECLS and the settlers. The planting of eucalyptus, often to the detriment of indigenous trees, was a hallmark of settler colonialism in Libya and the Horn of Africa, dubiously justified because their extensive roots dry out swamps and so were said to reduce risks of malaria.

      With the end of the Second World War, Borgo Rizza, along with all the other Sicilian settlements, went through rapid decay and decline. It first became a military outpost, before being temporarily abandoned in the war’s aftermath. In 1975, the ownership and management of the cluster of buildings comprising the village was officially transferred to the municipality of Carlentini, which has since made several attempts to revive it. In 2006, the edifices of the Ente di Colonizzazione and the post office were rehabilitated with the intent of creating a garden centre amid the lush vegetation. However, the garden centre was never realised, while the buildings and the rest of the settlement remain empty.

      Yet despite the village’s depopulation, over the years the wider community of Carlentini have found an informal way to reuse the settlement’s spaces. The void of the piazza, left empty since the fall of fascism, became a natural spot for socialising. The piazza was originally designed by the ECLS for party gatherings and to convey order and hierarchy to the local population. But many locals remember a time, in the early 1980s, before the advent of air-conditioned malls that offered new leisure spaces to those living in peri-urban and rural areas, when people would gather in the piazza for fresh air amid summer heatwaves. The summer school builds on these memories, to return the piazza to its full public function and reinvent it as a place for both hospitality and critical pedagogy.

      Let’s not forget that the village was first used as a pedagogical tool in the hands of the regime. The school building was built by the ECLS and was the key institution to reflect the principles of neo-idealism promoted by the fascist and neo-Hegelian philosophers Giovanni Gentile and Giuseppe Lombardo Radice. Radice was a pedagogue and theoretician who contributed significantly to the fascist reforms of the Italian school system in the 1930s. Under the influence of Gentile, his pedagogy celebrated the modern principle of a transcendental knowledge that is never individual but rather embodied by society, its culture, the party, the state and the nation. In the fascist ideal, the classroom was designed to be the space where students would strive to transcend themselves through acquired knowledge. A fascist education was meant to make pupils merge with the ‘universal’ embodied by the teacher, de facto the carrier of fascist national values. In relation to the countryside context, the role of pedagogy was to glorify the value of rurality as opposed to the decadence wrought by liberal bourgeois cultures and urban lifestyles. The social order of fascism revolved around this opposition, grounded in the alienation of the subaltern from social and political life, via the splitting of the urban and rural working class, the celebration of masculinity and patriarchy, and the traditionalist nuclear family of settlers.

      Against this historical background, our summer school wants to inspire a spatial, architectural and political divorce from this past. We want to engage with decolonial pedagogies and encourage others to do the same, towards an epistemic reorganisation of the building’s architecture. In this, we share the assertion of Danilo Dolci, given in relation to the example of elementary schools built in the fascist era, of the necessity for a liberation from the physical and mental cages erected by fascism:

      These seemed designed (and to a large extent their principles and legacies are still felt today) to let young individuals get lost from an early age. So that they would lose the sense of their own existence, by feeling the heavy weight of the institution that dominates them. These buildings were specifically made to prevent children from looking out, to make them feel like grains of sand, dispersed in these grey, empty, boundless spaces.12

      This is the mode of demodernization we seek in this project: to come to terms with, confront, and deactivate the tools and symbols of modern fascist colonization and authoritarian ideologies, pedagogy and urbanism. It is an attempt to fix the social fabric that fascism broke, to heal the histories of spatial, social and political isolation in which the village originates. Further, it is an attempt to heal pedagogy itself, from within a space first created as the pedagogical hammer in the hands of the regime’s propagandists.

      This means that when we look at the forms of this rationalist architecture, we do not feel any aesthetic pleasure in or satisfaction with the original version. This suggests the need to imagine forms of public preservation outside of the idea of saving the village via restoration, which would limit the intervention to returning the buildings to their ‘authentic’ rationalist design. Instead, the school wants to introduce the public to alternative modes of heritage-making.

      Architectural demodernization

      In the epoch in which we write and speak from the southern shores of Europe, the entanglement of demodernization with decolonization is not a given, and certainly does not imply an equation. While decolonization originates in – and is only genealogically possible as the outcome of – anti-colonialist struggles and liberation movements from imperial theft and yoke, demodernization does not relate to anti-modernism, which was an expression of reactionary, anti-technological and nationalist sentiment, stirred at the verge of Europe’s liberal collapse in the interwar period. As Dolci explained for the Italian and Sicilian context, there is no shelter to be found in any anachronistic escape to the (unreal and fictional) splendours of the past. Or, following Gramsci’s refusal to believe that the Italian South would find the solutions to its problems through meridionalism, a form of southern identitarian and essentialist regionalism, which further detaches ‘the Southern question’ from possible alliances with the North.

      Demodernization does not mean eschewing electricity and wiring, mortar and beams, or technology and infrastructure, nor the consequent welfare that they provide, channel and distribute. By opposing modernity’s aggressive universalism, demodernization is a means of opening up societal, collective and communal advancement, change and transformation. Precisely as Dolci explains, the question it is not about the negation of progress but about choosing which progress you want.13

      In the context in which we exist and work, imagining the possibility of an architectural demodernization is an attempt to redraw the contours of colonial architectural heritage, and specifically, to raise questions of access, ownership and critical reuse. We want to think of demodernization as a method of epistemic desegregation, which applies to both discourse and praxis: to reorient and liberate historical narratives on fascist architectural heritage from the inherited whiteness and ideas of civilisation instilled by colonial modernity, and to invent forms of architectural reappropriation and reuse. We hold one final aim in mind: that the remaking of (post)colonial geographies of knowledge and relations means turning such fascist designs against themselves.

      https://www.internationaleonline.org/research/decolonising_practices/208_architectural_demodernization_as_critical_pedagogy_pathway

      #Partinico #Borgo_di_Trappeto #Italie_du_Sud #Italie_meridionale #Southern_question #colonizzazione_interna #colonisation_interne #Ente_di_Colonizzazione_de_Latifondo_Siciliano (#ECLS) #Ente_di_Colonizzazione_della_Libia #modernisation #bonifica_integrale #Pontine_Marshes #Borgo_Bonsignore #Borgo_Fazio #Borgo_Giuliano #latifondo #Pietro_Gramignani #Caficis

  • #Robo_Dogs and Refugees: The Future of the Global Border Industrial Complex

    The future is here, and it’s a nightmare for migrants. Robo-dogs are joining the global arsenal of border enforcement technologies. The consequences will be deadly.

    A painting of an eye shedding a single tear adorns the concrete rampart of the rusty wall bisecting the city of Nogales at the U.S.-Mexico border. Elsewhere, other kinds of eyes scan the Sonoran Desert—drones, artificial intelligence (AI) surveillance towers, and now military-grade “robo-dogs,” which, according to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security in a February 1 article, might soon be deployed in this vast area of the Arizona-Mexico borderlands, a frequent crossing point for refugees and people on the move from Latin America, the Caribbean, and beyond.

    The robo-dogs, built by Ghost Robotics, are the latest border tech experiment. Originally designed for combat and tactical training operations, these quadruped autonomous machines are strong, fast, and sometimes armed. They can break down doors and right themselves when kicked over. Police departments are already using them, such as in Honolulu and New York (although the latter city cut short its use of them after a public outcry). On the border, DHS first tested what they call “programmable pooches” in El Paso, but officials didn’t give a clear indication of when nor where the machines would eventually be deployed.

    While these mechanical dogs may be a surprising addition to U.S. border enforcement, they join a technological infrastructure on the U.S.-Mexico border that has been developing for decades, often constructed by private companies and now championed by the Biden administration. The idea of mechanized Border Patrol agents is not exactly new either; in 2015, for example, the GuardBot company proposed that rolling, rubber spheres full of surveillance cameras (first designed for exploring Mars) “swarm” the borderlands in packs of 20 or 30. While that contract was never issued, it was a preamble to the robo-dogs. Here, now, is a glimpse into the future: an aggressive techno border fueled by a global industrial complex.

    The robo-dogs form part of a long process of border robotization on the U.S. Mexico border—from autonomous and integrated fixed towers (built by Anduril and Elbit Systems, respectively) to Predator B and medium-size drones (General Atomics), to university experiments to create miniature drones the size of locusts (as was done at the University of Arizona via a grant it received from the Department of Homeland Security for R&D).

    Petra, who was at the Arizona-Mexico border when DHS announced the robo-dogs, has been studying surveillance technologies and their effects on people crossing borders for years in Europe and globally, focusing on the real harms of automation, surveillance, and border tech experiments in spaces that have become testing grounds for innovation. The very real impacts these technologies will have is all the more stark, given the sheer number of people dying in the desert. In 2021, deaths at the U.S.-Mexico border were the highest ever recorded. Thus, although it is difficult to write about surveillance technologies—since they are hidden by design—the real-world impacts of “technosolutionism” are clear enough.

    On the rumbling roads of the West Arizona desert, Petra and colleagues traced the routes that people take after crossing the border, and this led them to various gravesites, like the modest orange cross that marks the arroyo where Elías Alvarado, a young husband and father, perished in 2020. His son was never able to see him again, only leaving a scratchy voice recording saying “I love you, papa,” which was played at Alvarado’s ceremony by a group called Battalion Search and Rescue, whose volunteers comb the desert for survivors and remains. It’s terrifying to imagine a not-so-distant future in which people like Alvarado will be pursued by high-speed, military-grade technology designed to kill. The future is not just more technology, it is more death.

    Virtual Fortress Europe

    The U.S.-Mexico frontier is by no means the only place where experimental border technology is being tested. For example, the European Union has been focusing on various surveillance and high-tech experiments in migration and border enforcement, including maritime and land drone surveillance; long-range acoustic devices (LRADs), or sound cannons; and AI-type technologies in newly built camps in Greece. The violence in many of these technologies is obvious: the sound cannons that were rolled out at the land border between Greece and Turkey emit a high-pitched sound that can hurt people’s eardrums in an attempt to deter them from getting close to the EU’s border, while AI “threat detection” surveillance monitors refugees in Greece’s new prisonlike refugee camps on the Aegean Islands. AI-driven surveillance using unpiloted drones and other types of technologies is also increasingly used along Europe’s maritime borders by actors such as Frontex, the EU’s border enforcement agency. As in the U.S.-Mexico desert, border surveillance makes the crossing more dangerous, since it forces them to take riskier routes to avoid detection.

    The increasing reliance on automation in border enforcement also brings with it a host of concerns, from privacy infringements when data is shared with repressive governments to discrimination and bias, particularly against groups that have historically borne the brunt of violent state action. For example, facial recognition has proved time and again to be biased against Brown and Black faces, as well as female faces, and yet it is increasingly used for migration control in the U.S., Canada, and soon various EU countries. These issues around discrimination and bias are not merely theoretical; they have had palpable impacts on people on the move such as Addisu, a young man from East Africa in his early 30s. He was living in an occupied building in Brussels when he told Petra, “We are Black, and border guards hate us. Their computers hate us too.”

    Tech pilot projects have also introduced AI-type lie detection into border enforcement, relying on emotion recognition and micro-expressions to apparently determine whether someone is telling the truth at the border. Yet what about differences in cross-cultural communication? Or the impact of trauma on memory, or the overreliance on Western norms of plausibility and lie detection grounded in biased and discriminatory determinations? Immigration and refugee decision-making by border enforcement officers is already replete with discretionary, opaque, and often biased reasoning that is difficult to challenge.

    Through the phenomenon of “border externalization,” the EU is also pushing its geographic borders further and further afield through biometric data collection and migration surveillance into North and sub-Saharan Africa. The United States is extending its border as well into southern Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean, among other places. As these sorts of technological systems extend all over the world, so does the global border industrial complex, which is worth billions of dollars. Each new place becomes a testing ground for the next one.

    A Regulatory Free-for-All: Border Tech Unchecked

    Border technologies are political; they are developed and deployed in an ecosystem of private and public partnerships that are largely unregulated and unchecked. Big Tech interests are given free rein to develop and deploy technologies at the border and set the agenda of what counts as innovation and whose perspectives really matter when conversations around borders happen in national, regional, and international policy circles.

    There is big money to be made in the sharpening of borders with draconian technologies. According to the market forecast company Market and Markets, the global homeland security market will grow more than 6 percent by 2026, reaching $904.6 billion. As border and immigration budgets only continue to rise in Europe, the United States, and places beyond, there will only be more armed “robo-dogs,” drones with tasers, and border AI-lie detectors filling border zones. This coincides with forecasts for more and more people on the move in the coming decades—for various reasons, including catastrophic climate change. The collision of aggressive tech borders with human mobility has the makings of a monumental human rights disaster.

    Participation in discussions around technologies at the border is still limited to a select few, often in the suffocating constraints of the public-private nexus. The viewpoints of those most affected are routinely excluded from the discussion, particularly regarding no-go zones and ethically fraught uses of technology. Much of the discussion, such as it is, lacks contextual analysis or consideration of the ethical, social, political, and personal harm that these new technologies will have. While border and immigrant rights groups such as Mijente, Just Futures Law, the Immigrant Defense Project and others have been fighting the use of high-risk surveillance along the U.S.-Mexico border, the lucrative political climate of exclusion and border enforcement at all costs is what animates the move toward a surveillance dragnet. This dragnet will only increase the suffering and death along the frontier. “It’s a slow-motion genocide,” James Holeman, founder of Battalion Search Rescue, recently told Petra Molnar in the Arizona desert.

    Borders are the perfect testing ground for technologies: unregulated, increasingly politicized, and impacting groups already struggling with adequate resources. Ultimately, Big Tech and quick fixes do not address the systemic causes of marginalization and migration—historical and present-day decisions that perpetuate vast inequalities in the world and that benefit the fortressed West while disenfranchising and displacing the rest. Whether it be armed agents, imposed walls, or robo-dogs, border militarization ensures that rich countries can keep looting, exploiting, and polluting the rest of the world.

    https://www.theborderchronicle.com/p/robo-dogs-and-refugees-the-future
    #robots_dogs #complexe_militaro-industriel #robots #robots_chiens #frontières #surveillance #technologie #asile #migrations #réfugiés #robo-dog #Ghost_Robotics #Nogales #Mexique #USA #Etats-Unis #désert_du_Sonora #DHS #El_Paso #programmable_pooches #GuardBot #Anduril #Elbit_Systems #Predator_B #general_atomics #drones #robo_dog

    • Merci pour ce partage, les photos me rappellent la situation post-soviétique où on trouve encore un peu partout aujourd’hui (Arménie, Géorgie, Lettonie) des carcasse de gros œuvres en cour de construction avec les grues etc... Le 21 août 1991, les grutiers sont partis à 5 h du soir et ne sont jamais revenus !

  • Contre les migrants, toujours plus de #technologie

    Reporterre s’est rendu au salon #Milipol pour découvrir les innovations technologiques sécuritaires. Elles sont de plus en plus déployées pour repousser les migrants.

    « Viens ici pépère ! » lance un homme élancé en costume-cravate en direction d’un chien-robot en mouvement, faisant mine de lui proposer à manger. Derrière les regards amusés autour du robot développé par l’entreprise étasunienne #Ghost_Robotics, son « maître » le guide avec sa télécommande d’un œil malicieux. Ce chien-robot au look Black Mirror répond au nom de #Q-UGV et sa mission consiste à surveiller des sites ultrasensibles comme les centrales nucléaires.

    Ce surveillant atypique, capable de courir, grimper et nager dans des environnements extrêmes, était l’une des nombreuses innovations présentées sur le salon Milipol de la sécurité intérieure au parc des expositions de Villepinte (Seine-Saint-Denis). Près de 1 000 exposants, dont deux tiers d’entreprises internationales, y ont élu domicile du mardi 19 au vendredi 22 octobre. Plus de 30 000 professionnels de la sécurité publique et privée de 150 pays déambulaient dans les allées. Entre une coupe de champagne et des petits fours, ils s’informaient pour en faire commerce sur les dernières grenades lacrymogènes, les dispositifs de reconnaissance faciale ou les fusils d’assaut.

    L’heure est à la reprise pour le secteur de la #sécurité. « La première des libertés », comme l’a assuré le ministre de l’Intérieur, Gérald Darmanin, lors de sa visite du salon le premier jour. Après avoir subi la crise sanitaire à l’instar d’une large partie de l’économie mondiale, le marché mondial de la #sécurité_intérieure devrait rebondir. Sa prévision de croissance est de 8 % en 2021 et de 6 % en 2022, après une baisse de 3 % en 2020. En France, il n’a pas été épargné non plus et les dépenses étatiques consacrées à la sécurité ont baissé de 8,6 %, pour atteindre 3,6 milliards d’euros. Mais certains domaines, comme celui des #drones_de_surveillance, ont tiré leur épingle du jeu avec une progression de 5,8 %. Alors que l’Union européenne peine toujours à s’accorder sur une politique commune de gestion des #frontières, chaque État membre est tenté de renforcer la #surveillance des siennes grâce à des technologies toujours plus sophistiquées.

    Mille et une façons de traquer les migrants

    Déjà déployés, en passe d’être expérimentés ou pas encore autorisés, les dispositifs de #détection de migrants sont présentés aux quatre coins de l’immense salle d’exposition. Nichés entre deux stands de drones, les représentants de la société française #HGH, spécialisée dans les #systèmes_électro-optiques, sont ainsi très sollicités. La série de #caméras_thermiques #Spynel, qui promet une « #surveillance_panoramique 360 degrés, #jour et #nuit, jusqu’à l’horizon » sur les frontières des pays intéressés, a du succès. À l’occasion du salon, l’entreprise vient de finaliser un contrat d’un million d’euros avec un pays de l’#Otan (Organisation du traité de l’Atlantique Nord) — dont elle tait le nom — pour sécuriser et surveiller sur près de 1 000 kilomètres de côte et empêcher les passages des migrants et des trafiquants de drogues. « C’est impossible d’échapper à la #vigilance de cette caméra, et à l’inverse des drones, on ne peut pas brouiller son signal, car elle n’émet aucune onde », se félicite le responsable marketing. « Si un groupe de personnes ou un zodiac s’approche de nuit d’un littoral dans la zone surveillée, l’#intelligence_artificielle détectera automatiquement le #mouvement et une alerte sera envoyée aux forces de sécurité », poursuit-il.

    De l’autre côté du salon, un groupe de gendarmes écoute attentivement les explications du représentant de l’entreprise néerlandaise #UVI-Scan. Sur la brochure commerciale, une page est consacrée à un #scanner capable de détecter les passagers clandestins sous les camions. Le visuel est explicite : accrochés sous un véhicule, deux migrants sont pris en flagrant délit. « Ce sont de vraies photos ! » assume le consultant technique. « C’est un système intégré à la chaussée qui détecte les #intrus et prend automatiquement une photo à l’approche des postes frontières et des ferrys », explique-t-il. « Nous en avons déployés un peu partout en Europe, notamment à #Dieppe, en France ». Là où de nombreux exilés tentent leur chance pour gagner les côtes anglaises par le ferry ou des embarcations de fortune.

    Entre deux stands de fusils d’assaut et des tenues de camouflages, un drone blanc aux allures d’avion miniature surplombe le stand de #German_Drones. L’entreprise allemande propose un « service personnalisé » à ses clients en fonction des usages ». Pour la détection de passages de migrants à la frontière, Anis Fellahi, le chef de projet international du groupe, recommande « le modèle 150, le plus performant, qui peut voler une heure et demie, couvrir une centaine de kilomètres, et transmet une vidéo de meilleure qualité ». Le dit #Songbird est d’ores et déjà déployé aux frontières allemandes et belges, et cherche à étendre son empreinte.

    Les industriels ne s’arrêtent pas là et proposent aux autorités des outils de #surveillance_aérienne toujours plus développées et intrusifs. L’entreprise française #T-ops intègre des #IMSI-Catcher directement embarqués sur les drones. Ce dispositif de #surveillance_de_masse est capable d’intercepter le trafic des communications téléphoniques, de récupérer et recouper ces informations à distance et de suivre les mouvements des utilisateurs. « Là nous proposons un produit avec une #efficacité au-delà du réel ! » s’exclame le représentant de la société. Cette technologie peut-elle être déployée pour repérer les migrants ? « C’est possible, oui. Mais nous ne fournissons qu’un service, le responsable de son utilisation est l’État », répond-il sobrement.

    Certains produits attendent des évolutions législatives pour être pleinement déployés. C’est le cas du drone de surveillance très longue distance présenté par le groupe belge #John_Cockerill, traditionnel acteur de la défense, lancé depuis peu dans la sécurité intérieure. « Ce type d’appareil peut voir jusqu’à 30 kilomètres et il est en capacité d’identifier très clairement des personnes », explique #Jean-Marc_Tyberg, le président du conseil d’administration du groupe. « À ce stade, nous devons intégrer un logiciel qui floute automatiquement le visage de la personne pour ne pas la reconnaître ». Mais selon lui, « se priver de ces outils de reconnaissance revient à fermer les yeux en conduisant. Il faut que l’on rattrape notre retard législatif pour que ces solutions puissent être pleinement utilisées. » Jean-Marc Tyberg fait référence aux longs débats autour de la controversée #loi_Sécurité_globale. Le Conseil constitutionnel avait fini par censurer le dispositif d’encadrement de l’utilisation des images des drones utilisés les forces de l’ordre, jugée trop dangereux au regard du #droit_à_la_vie_privée. Mais le gouvernement est revenu à la charge à la rentrée avec une disposition remaniée dans le projet de loi relatif à la sécurité intérieure, actuellement débattu au Parlement.

    Si la France n’est pas le terrain de jeu technologique idéal des industriels, d’autres États comme la #Grèce accueillent de nombreuses expérimentations plus poussées. Le pays frontalier de la Turquie est un passage obligé dans le parcours des migrants. Et il reçoit le soutien de l’agence de gardes-côtes européens #Frontex, accusée par des ONG et des médias d’opérer des refoulements illégaux à l’extérieur de l’UE. Si le gestionnaire des frontières européennes n’a pas de stand dédié ici, ses fournisseurs sont disséminés sur le salon. La société française #Cnim_Air_Space est l’un d’eux. « Notre modèle de #ballon_captif #Eagle_Owl gonflé à l’Hélium peut voler jusqu’à 600 mètres de haut, et possède une autonomie de 7 jours », expose fièrement le représentant de l’entreprise. Il est actuellement utilisé par les autorités grecques et l’agence Frontex. Un modèle plus petit a également été expérimenté autour de #Calais par la gendarmerie. Avec sa caméra embarquée, il renvoie en continu les #images vers une station positionnée au sol. « En cas d’alerte, si un zodiac débarque, les autorités grecques sont en capacité de les repérer à des kilomètres avant d’intervenir », précise-t-il. « Il mesure 22 mètres de long, donc le fait de le voir peut aussi avoir un effet dissuasif… ».

    La Grèce accueille également l’expérimentation du projet #Roborder, contraction de #robot et de border (frontière en anglais), lancé en 2017, qui prévoit un #système_de_surveillance des frontières par un essaim de #drones_autonomes, capables par l’intelligence artificielle de déterminer les franchissements. Le projet #iborder_control ambitionne quant à lui de développer un #algorithme capable de détecter les #mensonges des migrants lors de leur passage à l’aéroport.

    Mais sur le terrain, les associations d’aide aux personnes exilées observent que le renforcement de la surveillance des frontières ne décourage pas les candidats à l’asile, mais rend simplement leur parcours plus dangereux. Alors que la surveillance se renforce d’année en année, l’Organisation internationale des migrations a comptabilisé 1 146 décès de migrants sur les routes maritimes vers l’Europe au premier semestre 2021, contre 513 en 2020 et 674 en 2019 à la même période. Mais au salon Milipol, le rêve d’une Europe forteresse a de belles années devant lui.

    https://reporterre.net/Contre-les-migrants-toujours-plus-de-technologie

    ping @isskein @karine4

  • Yuval Noah Harari: the world after coronavirus | Free to read | Financial Times

    Please use the sharing tools found via the share button at the top or side of articles. Copying articles to share with others is a breach of FT.com T&Cs and Copyright Policy. Email licensing@ft.com to buy additional rights. Subscribers may share up to 10 or 20 articles per month using the gift article service. More information can be found at https://www.ft.com/tour.
    https://www.ft.com/content/19d90308-6858-11ea-a3c9-1fe6fedcca75

    Humankind is now facing a global crisis. Perhaps the biggest crisis of our generation. The decisions people and governments take in the next few weeks will probably shape the world for years to come. They will shape not just our healthcare systems but also our economy, politics and culture. We must act quickly and decisively. We should also take into account the long-term consequences of our actions. When choosing between alternatives, we should ask ourselves not only how to overcome the immediate threat, but also what kind of world we will inhabit once the storm passes. Yes, the storm will pass, humankind will survive, most of us will still be alive — but we will inhabit a different world.

    Many short-term emergency measures will become a fixture of life. That is the nature of emergencies. They fast-forward historical processes. Decisions that in normal times could take years of deliberation are passed in a matter of hours. Immature and even dangerous technologies are pressed into service, because the risks of doing nothing are bigger. Entire countries serve as guinea-pigs in large-scale social experiments. What happens when everybody works from home and communicates only at a distance? What happens when entire schools and universities go online? In normal times, governments, businesses and educational boards would never agree to conduct such experiments. But these aren’t normal times.

    In this time of crisis, we face two particularly important choices. The first is between totalitarian surveillance and citizen empowerment. The second is between nationalist isolation and global solidarity.
    Under-the-skin surveillance

    In order to stop the epidemic, entire populations need to comply with certain guidelines. There are two main ways of achieving this. One method is for the government to monitor people, and punish those who break the rules. Today, for the first time in human history, technology makes it possible to monitor everyone all the time. Fifty years ago, the KGB couldn’t follow 240m Soviet citizens 24 hours a day, nor could the KGB hope to effectively process all the information gathered. The KGB relied on human agents and analysts, and it just couldn’t place a human agent to follow every citizen. But now governments can rely on ubiquitous sensors and powerful algorithms instead of flesh-and-blood spooks.

    Please use the sharing tools found via the share button at the top or side of articles. Copying articles to share with others is a breach of FT.com T&Cs and Copyright Policy. Email licensing@ft.com to buy additional rights. Subscribers may share up to 10 or 20 articles per month using the gift article service. More information can be found at https://www.ft.com/tour.
    https://www.ft.com/content/19d90308-6858-11ea-a3c9-1fe6fedcca75

    In their battle against the coronavirus epidemic several governments have already deployed the new surveillance tools. The most notable case is China. By closely monitoring people’s smartphones, making use of hundreds of millions of face-recognising cameras, and obliging people to check and report their body temperature and medical condition, the Chinese authorities can not only quickly identify suspected coronavirus carriers, but also track their movements and identify anyone they came into contact with. A range of mobile apps warn citizens about their proximity to infected patients. ....

    This storm will pass. But the choices we make now could change our lives for years to come
    https://www.ft.com/content/19d90308-6858-11ea-a3c9-1fe6fedcca75
    https://www.ft.com/__origami/service/image/v2/images/raw/http%3A%2F%2Fprod-upp-image-read.ft.com%2F9bc3b02e-6a11-11ea-a6ac-9122541af204?s

    #coronavirus #monde #politique @cdb_77

  • The Great Empty

    During the 1950s, New York’s Museum of Modern Art organized a famous photo exhibition called “The Family of Man.” In the wake of a world war, the show, chockablock with pictures of people, celebrated humanity’s cacophony, resilience and common bond.

    Today a different global calamity has made scarcity the necessary condition of humanity’s survival. Cafes along the Navigli in Milan hunker behind shutters along with the Milanese who used to sip aperos beside the canal. Times Square is a ghost town, as are the City of London and the Place de la Concorde in Paris during what used to be the morning rush.

    The photographs here all tell a similar story: a temple in Indonesia; Haneda Airport in Tokyo; the Americana Diner in New Jersey. Emptiness proliferates like the virus.

    The Times recently sent dozens of photographers out to capture images of once-bustling public plazas, beaches, fairgrounds, restaurants, movie theaters, tourist meccas and train stations. Public spaces, as we think of them today, trace their origins back at least to the agoras of ancient Greece. Hard to translate, the word “agora” in Homer suggested “gathering.” Eventually it came to imply the square or open space at the center of a town or city, the place without which Greeks did not really regard a town or city as a town or city at all, but only as an assortment of houses and shrines.

    Thousands of years later, public squares and other spaces remain bellwethers and magnets, places to which we gravitate for pleasure and solace, to take our collective temperature, celebrate, protest. Following the uprisings in Tiananmen Square, Tahrir Square, Taksim Square and elsewhere, Yellow Vest protesters in France demonstrated their discontent last year not by starting a GoFundMe page but by occupying public sites like the Place de la République and the Place de l’Opéra in Paris.

    Both of those squares were built during the 19th century as part of a master plan by a French official, Baron Georges-Eugène Haussmann, who remade vast swaths of Paris after the city passed new health regulations in 1850 to combat disease. Beset by viruses and other natural disasters, cities around the world have time and again devised new infrastructure and rewritten zoning regulations to ensure more light and air, and produced public spaces, buildings and other sites, including some of the ones in these photographs, that promised to improve civic welfare and that represented new frontiers of civic aspiration.

    Their present emptiness, a public health necessity, can conjure up dystopia, not progress, but, promisingly, it also suggests that, by heeding the experts and staying apart, we have not yet lost the capacity to come together for the common good. Covid-19 doesn’t vote along party lines, after all. These images are haunted and haunting, like stills from movies about plagues and the apocalypse, but in some ways they are hopeful.

    They also remind us that beauty requires human interaction.

    I don’t mean that buildings and fairgrounds and railway stations and temples can’t look eerily beautiful empty. Some of these sites, like many of these photographs, are works of art. I mean that empty buildings, squares and beaches are what art history textbooks, boutique hotel advertisements and glossy shelter and travel magazines tend to traffic in. Their emptiness trumpets an existence mostly divorced from human habitation and the messy thrum of daily life. They imagine an experience more akin to the wonder of bygone explorers coming upon the remains of a lost civilization.

    They evoke the romance of ruins.

    Beauty entails something else. It is something we bestow.

    It will be the moment we return.

    https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/03/23/world/coronavirus-great-empty.html
    #photographie #vide #géographie_du_vide #coronavirus #villes-phantomes #ghost-town #urban_matter #villes #géographie_urbaine
    via @albertocampiphoto
    ping @reka @philippe_de_jonckheere

    • Deserted cities of the heart

      The past few weeks have seen images spreading around the internet of empty streets and deserted cities. But what do these images tell us about the present moment, and what does their cultural value suggest about our relationship to the current crisis?

      In Liu Cixin’s sci-fi novel The Three-Body Problem, an astrophysicist, radicalized by reading Silent Spring, and having been persecuted during the Cultural Revolution, decides the human race is irredeemable and sells it out to an alien invader. I started the book a few weeks ago; now it has become grimly timely. Demagogues would now have us believe that the novel coronavirus is an alien invasion force while also trying to sell millions of us out to it as quickly as possible. Some have made a comparison to the risk-reward calculus of driving, arguing that governments don’t force people to drive slow in order to save lives. So why should they prevent us from endangering ourselves and others? Lives must be sacrificed to road wrecks to maintain a certain rate of return. As the skies clear dramatically over cities that are accustomed to thick smog, one can imagine the demagogues making a similar argument about the air pollution that already ruins lungs and truncates lives: All coronavirus does is accelerate the process — fast capitalism in its apotheosis.

      But the eschatological fantasies of Liu’s anti-humanity cadres are also echoed, however faintly, in the celebration of abandoned urban spaces and brightened city skies as some sort of coronavirus consolation. These are not like the images of empty grocery shelves, caused by those merely participating in the panic. They evoke something more sedate, serene. Earlier in the crisis, when Italy was the focal point, the sudden clarity of Venice’s canals were widely discussed with wonder. Without boat traffic, the sediment in them settled, making it possible to see the marine life they host. CNN quoted a random person saying, “What a marvel this Venice was; this virus brought something ... beautiful." That sentiment was echoed on Twitter feeds that shared video of the canals, the fish newly visible. Implied in this sharing was a message about the resilience of nature and humanity’s fundamental tendency to interfere rather than participate in it: See how nice and pure the world is without tourists, without other people living their lives by their own priorities and privileges? This is the way I like to see the world, with no one else around to see it. The way things “really should be” is the way they are when human activity is subtracted. The canals are supposed to be clear and stagnant. To borrow a phrase from writer Mark O’Connell, describing the butterflies in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, “It is all quite lovely, in its uncanny way: The world, everywhere, protesting its innocence.”

      The clear canals may be taken as emblematic of a broader silencing to come. In an essay for the Point, philosopher Justin E.H. Smith wrote, “We have little idea what the world is going to look like when we get through to the other side of this, but it is already perfectly clear that the ‘discourses’ of our society, such as they had developed up to about March 8 or 9, 2020, in all their frivolity and distractiousness, have been decisively curtailed, like the CO2 emissions from the closed factories and the vacated highways.” He concludes that if an invading alien force came to Earth, there is no reason to believe that it would even have any interest in humanity (even to exterminate it), given that it’s only our own hubris that leads us to believe that we are “this planet’s true and legitimate representatives.”

      The broad fascination with the images of empty cities — as in this New York Times photo essay, for instance — is in part a fascination with that hubris, but more as a means of fetishizing it rather than overcoming it or rejecting it. Cities appear in these images not as practical commercial spaces but as monuments to humanity’s transformational power in the abstract, something that doesn’t require collaboration, competition, or conflict but just seems just to exist as a natural force. They are seen as especially beautiful when rendered useless, but that’s not because they remind us of our own uselessness or insignificance. Instead, the sense of personal impotence may be dispersed in majestic images of the vacated cathedrals of civilization.

      At the same time, cities are given the deserted quality that has often been reserved for conventional natural landscapes, where an absence of people serves as a signifier of “naturalness.” Landscape paintings typically tend to mask whatever alterations humans have made to the land so a particular perspective can appear as given, as inherent or inevitable. How the land is framed is both foregrounded and effaced: A vantage point is isolated and idealized as characteristic, as typical, as frameless.

      The photos of people-less cities extend that mood of givenness to urban landscapes, suggesting how they endure without us or despite us. We can regard cities not as purpose-built environments, but as natural ones to which humans have adapted, much like the species at the bottom of the ocean have adapted to life without light. From that point of view, humans are othered to themselves, becoming a species for remote observation. By looking at the images, we can see ourselves as exempt, as belonging to an evolution beyond that, the contours of which are emerging in the strange dislocations we are now experiencing in everyday life.

      Our ability to appreciate these images doesn’t underscore our ultimate harmony or interconnection with the natural world and the life that purportedly re-emerges when the highways are finally vacated. Rather it lets us use mediation (our ability to consume representations) to rearticulate our exceptionality. We can assume the subject position of the camera and pretend that makes us immune to being objects in the world.

      The deserted cities allow us to imagine that we’re in a comfortable position from which to enjoy them — that the erasure of humanity doesn’t actually include us. As this piece by Cherine Fahd and Sara Oscar notes, “The viewer is looking at a representation of the scene, not the scene itself, from a position of far-off comfort.” This becomes obvious when you actually walk around a deserted city, which is certainly uncanny but inspires more grief than delight. The images let us consume a distance from the emptiness as much as the emptiness itself. Wherever we are can then feel more full.

      In an essay that accompanied the New York Times’s collection of images, Michael Kimmelman suggests that the photos are hopeful because in their eerie, ruin-porn-like emptiness they “remind us that beauty requires human interaction.” But that reading strikes me as somewhat idealistic; he dismisses what seems to me their more fundamental allure, that they offer a vicarious experience of “the wonder of bygone explorers coming upon the remains of a lost civilization.” That is, they give viewers a kind of imperial transcendence, a sense of sublime survival as a kind of conquering. “Beauty” might be, as Kimmelman claims, a thing we “bestow” with social interaction, but the images remind us also that the consumption of beauty can be had unilaterally, placing us at a perspective that provides pleasure precisely by protecting us from complicity or vulnerability.

      What these images of empty cities remind me of are photos of dead malls that have served over the past decade or so as symbols of the oft-predicted “retail apocalypse.” I spent lots of time working and hanging out in a mall as a teenager, so these sorts of images have always had a bracing form of anti-nostalgia for me, like seeing your childhood home being bulldozed. But I also tend to read the dead-mall images as metonyms for the dead end of consumerism. They depict not the absence of commerce but its negation.

      Many have predicted that one of the lasting effects of the pandemic will be the end of conventional retail, because everyone will have gotten fully acclimated to home delivery and its conveniences. But this prediction seems premature; it’s impossible to tell just how drastically our everyday life and our perception of what is convenient will be reworked by the experience of extended isolation.

      It’s tempting to treat the images of deserted cities as symbols, as evocations, as metaphors, as prophecies, but the most compelling and troubling thing about them is that they can be taken as just direct representations of the world outside as it is. Our old lives are over; where we lived are ghost towns. The photos seem to document something historic and exceptional that we lived through, only we’re still living it. There is an apparent finality to total emptiness that might help us pretend that the crisis is already over, and the world is there, where we left it, and not in the social relations and the sorts of choices we’re now facing to try to remake it.

      https://www.versobooks.com/blogs/4620-deserted-cities-of-the-heart

    • La Plaine (place Jean-Jaurès). « Ce qui fait la beauté de cette ville, ce sont les gens qui l’habitent. Ces calicots pendus aux fenêtres en sont la trace. Ici, à la Plaine, c’est la colère qui domine. Plus bas, dans le centre, les banderoles sont plus "douces". »
      Photo #Yohanne_Lamoulère. Tendance Floue pour Libération


      https://seenthis.net/messages/841970

      La Plaine. « J’ai une forme de fascination pour les graffitis, comme celui-ci, très hauts : "Le virus c’est l’Etat". Je suis retournée à la Plaine pour le photographier, dans ce quartier, qui organise des prêts de livres, mais aussi des tournées de nourriture pour les soignants. Symbole de cette énergie militante, très forte à Marseille, qui comble finalement énormément de vide. »
      Photo Yohanne Lamoulère. Tendance Floue pour #Libération


      #Marseille

  • #ghosting : phénomène qui est apparu sur les sites de rencontre où l’une des personnes en recherche de relation disparaît subitement sans laisser de nouvelles. Ce phénomène impacte désormais le monde de l’entreprise.

    https://www.lci.fr/open-space/elle-a-disparu-et-a-envoye-un-sms-disant-que-le-poste-ne-lui-convenait-pas-quand

    « Elle a disparu et a envoyé un SMS disant que le poste ne lui convenait pas » : quand le ghosting surgit au boulot | LCI
    https://www.lci.fr/open-space/elle-a-disparu-et-a-envoye-un-sms-disant-que-le-poste-ne-lui-convenait-pas-quand

    Hélène travaille dans le marketing digital au sein d’une grosse entreprise. Elle s’en rappelle encore : « C’était dans l’une des premières start-up où j’ai travaillé. Une jeune fille commençait un nouveau poste le matin », raconte-t-elle sur un forum. « Nous sommes allés déjeuner tous ensemble et elle de son côté. Elle n’est jamais revenue ! Nous nous sommes inquiétés, elle pouvait avoir eu un accident, nous avons appelé. Ce n’est que plusieurs heures plus tard qu’elle a fini par répondre (par mail ou SMS, je ne me souviens plus) que le poste ne lui avait pas convenu et qu’elle préférait ne pas rester. »

    Un candidat qui fait sauter son entretien. Un nouvel embauché qui ne vient jamais. Un salarié qui part un soir et ne revient pas… Les formes sont multiples, mais découlent du même phénomène : celui du ghosting. C’est le Washington Post qui, en 2018, a cherché à dater l’irruption de cette pratique dans le monde du travail, avec ces salariés qui « commencent à agir comme les Millenials sur Tinder », en abandonnant leur emploi sans même un message.

  • These Ghost Towns Once Thronged With Life
    https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2016/05/160501-atlas-lost-cities-ghost-town-travel-chernobyl-pompeii-ngbooktalk/?sf228435134=1

    Isn’t it a tad creepy to be obsessed with ruins? Aude de Tocqueville doesn’t think so. For her, they hold a mysterious, poetic fascination that no living city can match. In her new book, Atlas of Lost Cities: A Travel Guide to Abandoned and Forsaken Destinations, de Tocqueville sets off on a journey of exploration to 44 places that once thronged with life but now lie dead and often buried. On the way, she discovers that, like us, cities are mortal. (Experience Chernobyl’s haunting ruins in 360-degree photos.)

  • Are Targeted Ads Stalking You ? Here’s How to Make Them Stop
    https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/15/technology/personaltech/stop-targeted-stalker-ads.html

    Online ads have always been annoying, but now they’re worse than ever. Consider what happens when you shop online for a wristwatch. You peruse a few watch websites and the next thing you know, a watch advertisement is following you everywhere. On your computer, it’s loading in your Facebook feed. On your phone, it’s popping up on Instagram. In your web browser on either, it’s appearing on news sites that have nothing to do with watches. Even if you end up ordering the watch, the ads continue (...)

    #Apple #Google #Microsoft #Edge #Facebook #Twitter #algorithme #Android #Chrome #cookies #Firefox #Ghostery #iPhone #Safari #smartphone #BigData #data #marketing #profiling #publicité (...)

    ##publicité ##Thunderbird

  • I dieci comandamenti - Pane nostro - 18/11/2018 - video - RaiPlay
    https://www.raiplay.it/video/2018/11/I-Dieci-Comandamenti-Pane-nostro-96445708-8e60-4c80-a309-c81b4f885f15.html

    "L’articolo 4 della Costituzione riconosce a tutti i cittadini il diritto al lavoro. Fino a che punto però è lecito accettare ogni condizione pur di lavorare? Si può vivere se quello che ci viene offerto è avvelenato? «Pane nostro» è un viaggio nel lavoro che non lascia scelta. Augusta, Priolo, Melilli sono il simbolo del ricatto occupazionale. In questo tratto di costa a due passi da Siracusa patrimonio UNESCO, si trova il più grande insediamento petrolchimico d’Europa, promessa di benessere e progresso. La storia purtroppo è andata diversamente. Oggi questa lingua di terra è tra le più inquinate d’Europa. Mutazioni genetiche nei pesci, malformazioni neonatali e cancro sono lo scenario di morte di questo pezzo di Sicilia contaminato. Tra denunce inascoltate e assenza delle istituzioni, pochi sono quelli che riescono a far sentire la propria voce. Don Palmiro Prisutto è una di queste. In assenza di un registro tumori è lui che da anni aggiorna la triste lista dei morti di cancro."

    #italie #pollution #Méditerranée #Sicile #Mercure #Pétrochimie

  • ARTE Paradis de rouille, Édifices fantomatiques sur le Château de Noisy en Belgique - YouTube
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpXvJ1qdNf8

    Documentaire Paradis de rouille diffusé sur ARTE et produit par Thierry Berrod sur les lieux abandonnés. -Le Château De Noisy,merveille unique en Wallonie a été détruit en 2016-2017 au grand regret des défenseurs,des habitants et des personnes qui y ont séjourné durant leur enfance... Malgré les tentatives de sauvegardes,le propriétaire fait la sourde oreille et ordonne la destruction de façon illégale. Noisy est donc un crime patrimonial et environnemental au profit de son propriétaire et son porte monnaie,comme on peu le constater dans ce documentaire. -Direction les USA ! Le parc d’attractions Six Flags Jazzland situé en Nouvelle Orléans ouvre le 20 mai 2000. Et ferme 5 ans plus tard suite a l’ouragan Katrina en 2005. Aujourd’hui le parc est abandonné... -L’île Japonaise de Hashima non loin de Nagasaki aujourd’hui ville fantôme est classée Patrimoine mondial en 2015. Elle est inhabitée depuis 1974.

    #ghost_city

  • Si vous écrivez, avez-vous déjà pensé à utiliser Git ? - TOOLinux
    https://www.toolinux.com/?Si-vous-ecrivez-avez-vous-deja-pense-a-utiliser-Git

    Dans un très long article signé Seth Kenlon (modérateur pour Red Hat) évoque les super pouvoirs de l’éditeur open source Git : « C’est l’une des rares applications à avoir accumulé tellement de fonctions informatiques qu’elle sert désormais de moteur pour de nombreuses autres applications. (...) Si son nom est bien connu pour le développement de logiciels, Git est également capable de vous faciliter la vie dans bien des cas et d’optimiser votre organisation. » Dont la rédaction de textes.

    #écrire #texte

  • Comment Pékin a transformé le #Xinjiang en bunker

    Dans cette province reculée de l’ouest de la Chine, la minorité ouïgoure fait l’objet d’une féroce répression. Le sujet est totalement censuré dans les médias. Les très rares journalistes chinois à oser se rendre sur place travaillent pour la presse hongkongaise, comme le chroniqueur qui signe le reportage que nous vous proposons ici.

    https://www.courrierinternational.com/long-format/long-format-comment-pekin-transforme-le-xinjiang-en-bunker?Ec
    #Chine #minorités #Ouïgours #censure #Urumqi #villes-fantôme #ghost-city

  • L’Italia dei paesi fantasma: dalla Sicilia al Piemonte i borghi restano senza abitanti

    E’ soprattutto d’inverno che i fantasmi si fanno sentire. Quando c’è sempre, prima o poi, una finestra che sbatte, dentro qualche casa chiusa. E nel silenzio di strade deserte, il vento diventa la voce dell’assenza. La voce cioè di chi è partito, per cercare altrove fortuna.
    Da anni, c’è un movimento costante in atto. Di svuotamento dei piccoli comuni, soprattutto montani o a vocazione agricola. Le scuole chiudono, per mancanza di bambini; le banche spostano gli sportelli; il trasporto pubblico è problematico, quando non inesistente. Le amministrazioni provano a condividere i servizi tra più comuni, ma i referendum per le fusioni sono quasi sempre stati bocciati dagli abitanti.
    C’è un’Italia minore per dimensioni, che lotta per non sparire. Un mondo poco noto, richiamato dalla protesta dei pastori sardi, che «diventa idealmente la protesta di tutta l’Italia rurale che non trova spazi nelle politiche né italiane né comunitarie. Un’Italia che sta sparendo, ma se sparisce quest’Italia - avverte il delegato Anci per i piccoli comuni, Massimo Castelli - sparisce il senso della nazione». E a salvare questo piccolo mondo antico «non sarà il reddito di cittadinanza», concordano più sindaci, ma «iniziative, per richiamare altri abitanti: mettendo a disposizione le case abbandonate o accordando incentivi fiscali, per aziende e nuovi residenti. Come la tassazione ridotta, introdotta nella legge di Bilancio 2019, per chi trasferisce la residenza dall’estero nei paesi del Mezzogiorno. E soprattutto servizi.


    https://www.ilsole24ore.com/art/notizie/2019-03-05/l-italia-paesi-fantasma-sicilia-piemonte-borghi-restano-senza-abitanti-
    #Italie #géographie_du_vide #dépeuplement #ghost-cities #villages-fantômes

  • #Blue_sky_from_pain

    Bizarre... je n’en trouve pas trace sur seenthis.
    Pourtant, c’est bien quelque chose que j’aurais dû mettre ici...
    Alors, je le fais maintenant...

    Synopsis :

    Une recherche amorcée en 2009 sur les politiques migratoires européennes à la frontière gréco-turque par #Laurence_Pillant a conduit à la découverte des lieux d’enfermement abandonnés.
    Une tentative de témoigner des traces et de la mémoire de ces lieux a donné lieu au film Blue Sky from Pain et l’exposition #Archéologie d’une Frontière.


    http://dekadrage.org/projets/blue-sky-from-pain

    #ghost-town #Evros #géographie_du_vide #asile #migrations #réfugiés #frontières #Grèce #court-métrage #film #Stephanos_Mangriotis #traces #ruines

    Trailer :
    https://vimeo.com/176722506

  • #Ghost_Towns | Buildings | Architectural Review

    https://www.architectural-review.com/today/ghost-towns/8634793.article

    Though criticised by many, China’s unoccupied new settlements could have a viable future

    Earlier this year a historic landmark was reached, but with little fanfare. The fact that the people of China are now predominantly urban, was largely ignored by the Western media. By contrast, considerable attention focused on China’s new ‘ghost towns’ or kong cheng − cities such as Ordos in the Gobi desert and Zhengzhou New District in Henan Province which are still being built but are largely unoccupied.

    By some estimates, the number of vacant homes in Chinese cities is currently around 64 million: space to accommodate, perhaps, two thirds of the current US population. However, unlike the abandoned cities of rust-belt America or the shrinking cities of Europe, China’s ghost cities seem never to have been occupied in the first place. So to what extent are these deserted places symbolic of the problems of rapid Chinese urbanisation? And what is revealed by the Western discourse about them?

    Characterised by its gargantuan central Genghis Khan Plaza and vast boulevards creating open vistas to the hills of Inner Mongolia, Ordos New Town is a modern frontier city. It is located within a mineral rich region that until recently enjoyed an estimated annual economic growth rate of 40 per cent, and boasts the second highest per-capita income in China, behind only the financial capital, Shanghai.

    Having decided that the existing urban centre of 1.5 million people was too crowded, it was anticipated that the planned cultural districts and satellite developments of Ordos New Town would by now accommodate half a million people rather than the 30,000 that reputedly live there.

    Reports suggest that high profile architectural interventions such as the Ai Weiwei masterplan for 100 villas by 100 architects from 27 different countries have been shelved, although a few of the commissions struggle on.

    It seems that expectations of raising both the region’s profile (at least in ways intended) and the aesthetic esteem of its new residents have failed to materialise. Instead, attention is focused on the vacant buildings and empty concrete shells within a cityscape devoid of traffic and largely empty of people.

    Estimates suggest there’s another dozen Chinese cities with similar ghost town annexes. In the southern city of Kunming, for example, the 40-square-mile area of Chenggong is characterised by similar deserted roads, high-rises and government offices. Even in the rapidly growing metropolitan region of Shanghai, themed model towns such as Anting German Town and Thames Town have few inhabitants. In the Pearl River Delta, the New South China Mall is the world’s largest. Twice the size of the Mall of America in Minneapolis, it is another infamous example of a gui gouwu zhongxin or ‘ghost mall’.

    Located within a dynamic populated region (40 million people live within 60 miles of the new Mall), it has been used in the American documentary Utopia, Part 3 to depict a modern wasteland. With only around 10 of the 2,300 retail spaces occupied, there is an unsettling emptiness here. The sense that this is a building detached from economic and social reality is accentuated by broken display dummies, slowly gliding empty escalators, and gondolas navigating sewage-infested canals. The message is that in this ‘empty temple to consumerism’ − as described by some critics − we find an inherent truth about China’s vapid future.

    Anting German Town Shanghai

    The main square of Anting German Town outside Shanghai. One of the nine satellite European cities built around the city, it has failed to establish any sense of community. The Volkswagen factory is down the road

    Pursued through the imagery of the ghost town, the commentary on stalled elements of Chinese modernity recalls the recent fascination with what has been termed ‘ruin porn’ − apocalyptic photographs of decayed industrial structures in cities such as Detroit, as in the collection The Ruins of Detroit by Yves Marchand and Romain Meffe. These too dramatise the urban landscapes but seldom seem interested in enquiring about the origins and processes underlying them.

    In his popular work Collapse, Jared Diamond fantasised that one day in the future, tourists would stare at the ‘rusting hulks of New York’s skyscrapers’ explaining that human arrogance − overreaching ourselves − is at the root of why societies fail. In Requiem for Detroit, filmmaker Julian Temple too argues that to avoid the fate of the lost cities of the Maya, we must recognise the ‘man-made contagion’ in the ‘rusting hulks of abandoned car plants’. (It seems that even using a different metaphor is deemed to be too hubristic.)

    In terms of the discussion about Chinese ghost cities, many impugn these places as a commentary on the folly of China’s development and its speed of modernisation. Take the Guardian’s former Asia correspondent, Jonathan Watts, who has argued that individuals and civilisations bring about their own annihilation by ‘losing touch with their roots or over-consuming’. Initial signs of success often prove to be the origin of later failures, he argues. In his view, strength is nothing more than potential weakness, and the moral of the tale is that by hitting a tipping point, civilisations will fall much more quickly than they rise.

    In fact, China’s headlong rush to development means that its cities embody many extremes. For example, the city of Changsha in Hunan Province recently announced that in the space of just seven months it would build an 838 metre skyscraper creating the world’s tallest tower. Understandably, doubts exist over whether this can be achieved − the current tallest, the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, took six years to build. Yet such is the outlook of a country with so much dynamic ambition, that even the seemingly impossible is not to be considered off-limits. At the other end of the scale, it was recently revealed that 30 million Chinese continue to live in caves − a reflection of under-development (not an energy efficient lifestyle choice).

    In the West, a risk averse outlook means that caution is the watchword. Not only is the idea of building new cities a distant memory, but data from the US and UK betrays that geographical mobility is reducing as people elect to stay in declining towns rather than seek new opportunities elsewhere. By contrast, China is a country on the move − quite literally. In fact the landmark 50 per cent urbanisation rate was achieved some years ago, driven by a ‘floating population’ of perhaps 200 million people, whose legal status as villagers disguises the fact they have already moved to live and work in cities.

    If cramming five to a room in the existing Anting town means easy access to jobs then why move to Anting German Town, accessible via only a single road, and surrounded by industrial districts and wasteland? But it is also clear that China is building for expansion. The notion of ‘predict and provide’ is so alien to Western planners these days, that they are appalled when particular Chinese authorities announce that they will build a new town with three-lane highways before people move there. How absurd, we say. Look, the roads are empty and unused. But in this debate, it is we who have lost our sense of the audacious.

    When assessing the ghost cities phenomenon, it seems likely that in a country growing at the breakneck speed of China, some mistakes will be made. When bureaucratic targets and technical plans inscribed in protocols and legislation are to the fore, then not all outcomes of investment programmes such as a recent $200 billion infrastructure project will work out. And yes, ghost cities do reflect some worrying economic trends, with rising house prices and the speculative stockpiling of units so that many apartments are owned but not occupied.

    But these problems need to be kept firmly in perspective. The reality is that meaningful development requires risk-taking. The ghost cities today may well prove to be viable in the longer term, as ongoing urbanisation leads to better integration with existing regions, and because by the very virtue of their creation, such areas create new opportunities that alter the existing dynamics.

    #chine #urban_matter #villes_fantômes #architecture

  • #Trump et le coup d’État des #multinationales

    Comment Donald Trump a-t-il conquis la Maison-Blanche ? Au travers d’analyses d’observateurs et de paroles d’électeurs, Fred Peabody dessine le saisissant portrait d’une démocratie confisquée.

    Et si le 45e président des États-Unis n’était pas le symbole d’une ère nouvelle, mais au contraire l’aboutissement d’un processus entamé depuis de longues années ? Alors que la journaliste canadienne Naomi Klein a récemment comparé l’administration Trump à un « coup d’État des grandes entreprises », son compatriote philosophe John Saul (Mort de la globalisation, éd. Payot) estime, lui, que la confiscation de la démocratie et des biens publics par les intérêts privés a débuté dès la fin des années 1970, la première élection de Ronald Reagan en 1981 la rendant effective. Sa théorie du « coup d’État au ralenti » a notamment inspiré le journaliste Chris Hedges dans son analyse de l’état de l’Amérique. Pour lui, et certains de ses pairs, également interviewés ici, l’élection de Donald Trump ne constitue que le dernier rebondissement, le plus visible sans doute, d’une dérive à laquelle ses prédécesseurs démocrates, Bill Clinton et Barack Obama, ont activement prêté la main. Des pans entiers de la population américaine, notamment dans les anciennes régions ouvrières, ont ainsi été délibérément sacrifiés par les élites au nom de la libéralisation du marché, et la crise de 2008 a contribué à accélérer cet abandon.

    Outsiders
    En écho à ces réquisitoires très argumentés, le réalisateur Fred Peabody (Tous les gouvernements mentent) explore ainsi les villes dévastées de Camden (New Jersey) et de Youngstown (Ohio), anciens bastions industriels livrés au chômage et à la misère, où des sans-abri, citoyens jadis prospères, campent à deux pas de rangées de maisons murées. Et c’est l’aspect le plus passionnant, et le plus novateur, de son film, que de donner la parole à des électeurs de Trump qui, ni haineux, ni racistes, ni religieux fanatiques, expliquent pourquoi ils n’ont pu se résoudre, une fois de plus, à voter pour un parti qui les a rayés de la carte sans sourciller. Sans illusion sur Trump, ils lui reconnaissent une seule vertu : celle de l’outsider, méprisé comme eux par les politiciens professionnels et les médias. De Washington à la Rust Belt, la « ceinture de rouille », cette balade dans une Amérique oubliée fait puissamment écho à l’actualité française.


    https://www.arte.tv/fr/videos/084760-000-A/trump-et-le-coup-d-etat-des-multinationales
    #coup_d'Etat #USA #Etats-Unis #corporation #coup_d'Etat_permanent #impôts #fiscalité #élite #pouvoir_économique #démocratie #groupes_d'intérêt #intérêt_personnel #Mussolini #fascisme #corporatisme #propagande #médias #presse #lobby #Camden (New Jersey) #pauvreté #SDF #sans-abris #sans-abrisme #villes-fantôme #capitalisme #ghost-city #pillage #Youngstown (Ohio) #sidérurgie #industrie_sidérurgique #acierie #désindustrialisation #Rusting_belt #délocalisation #chômage #drogue #Manifeste_Powell #inégalités #richesse #pauvreté #ALENA #traité_de_libre-échange #accords_de_libre-échange #syndicats #prisons #privatisation_des_prisons #emprisonnement #divisions #diviser_pour_régner #racisme #sexisme #patriarcat #film #documentaire #film_documentaire

  • Someone Built A $200 Million Village Of Disney-Like Castles, Realizes His Mistake When It’s Too Late | Bored Panda
    https://www.boredpanda.com/turkey-abandoned-villas-disney-castles

    The Sarot Group was recently slapped with a court-ordered bankruptcy ruling over the Burj Al Babas’ $27 million debt. The project was designed to include 732 chateau-style villas, swimming pools, Turkish baths, health and beauty centers, a shopping center and a mosque, according to its website. And even though customers from Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia have bought around 350 of the 587 villas built, it’s not enough.

    #ghost_town

  • Drone footage reveals hundreds of abandoned Turkish chateaux at Burj Al Babas
    https://www.dezeen.com/2019/01/18/drone-abandoned-turkish-chateau-burj-al-babas

    Approximately halfway between Turkey’s largest city Istanbul and its capital Ankara, the Burj Al Babas development will contain 732 identical mini chateaux when, or if, it completes.

    Au premier regard j’ai cru à des maquettes, mais non !

    #architecture #lotissement

    • Vraiment ? Pas un fake ? Y’a d’autres sources ? Google maps ?
      Parce qu’ un château, c’est bien quand t’es seul. La non seulement tu te tapes des voisins mais en plus, t’as la même baraque que les autres, autant vivre à la Courneuve.
      Une Ferrari c’est bien si le parking du supermarché n’en est pas rempli. Sinon ça devient du mauvais goût, comme là.

    • non pas du tout fake

      #Talia_Saray_Villa

      gg:Maps
      https://www.google.fr/maps/place/Burj+Al+Babas+Villa/@40.4450213,31.1973133,1129m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m5!3m4!1s0x14cd368170cadda5:0x1c3af436b3407cb!8m2!3d40.462581!

      gg:Images

      présenté comme un "projet hôtelier", je crois (mais ce n’est pas très clair) que les pavillons sont destinés à des investisseurs, non pour une gestion directe des locations.

      Talia Saray Project » Burj Global Group
      http://burjglobalgroup.com/property/talia-saray-project

      DESCRIPTION
      Burj Global Real Estate Group Launches Talia Saray Project (Talia Sarai) for Royal Villas (1/5/2017)

      The resort is located in Modorno district of the Polo Turkish state Which is one of the most attractive natural areas for tourists and it is two hours from Istanbul and an hour and  a half from the capital Ankara, an hour from Sabanga, a lively area of ??nature and sulfuric water (therapeutic)  at 860 meters above sea level, where fresh air and 25 degrees Summer degree.

      The area is characterized by a tourist atmosphere in the summer and winter, where tourists go for recreation and  relax with therapeutic water. The Talia Saray project is the company’s sixth project in this region.

      The resort is equipped with all hotel services / large commercial mall / 8 natural and industrial lakes  / restaurants and cafés throughout the resort / indoor and open swimming pools for women and men for privacy / Hotel / children daycare / Mosques / Hospital / Cinema / Spa Jacuzzi & Sauna / Horseback Riding /
      Thermal Water Swimming Pool / Heliport / Aqua Park / Golf Land / Soccer courts, Basketball, Tennis /  Artificial river / Golf cars for mobility within the project / Trips to Istanbul / Maintenance /  Guarding and security 24 hours a week /

      The project consists of 350 villas designed in classic style. The interior of the villa is 300 square meters. Divided into two floors. The ground floor consists of three open living rooms (can be two bedrooms), a dining room,  a kitchen with a bathroom and rooms, a Jacuzzi and steam room with thermal water, with a terrace that can be  turned into a diwaniya and a back terrace overlooking the villa’s back garden. The first floor consists of three bedrooms (one of them master room) and two bathrooms with a large terrace  and a balcony overlooking the lakes in the resort, villas also feature modern furnishings and  full luxurious decor in keeping with the villa’s exterior design.

      The villa garden is organized in an engineering style, decorated with flowers and enjoys full privacy.  A private outdoor swimming pool can also be set up for the villa.
      The land area of each villa ranges from 320 meters to 669 square meters registered under the title deed,  and most of the sites are characterized by the presence of pleas for the right of use of owners villas.

      Delivery date 2019
      Payment methods cash or installments up to Three-year

    • Faillite en novembre 2018, donc…
      –> #ghost_town !


      Partially completed chateau-like houses in the project
      Source: Sarot Group/Burj Al Babas/Facebook

      Customers from Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia snapped up 350 of the villas, according to Hurriyet, at a going rate of $370,000 to $530,000. They specifically asked for the chateau-like design, according to the project’s consulting architect, Naci Yoruk.

      Sarot Group Chairman Mehmet Emin Yerdelen blamed his predicament on deadbeat clients.

      We couldn’t get about 7.5 million dollars receivables for the villas we have sold to Gulf countries,Hurriyet quoted Yerdelen as saying. “We applied for bankruptcy protection but the court ruled for bankruptcy. We will appeal the ruling.

      The group finished building 587 villas before it applied for bankruptcy protection.

      Although the court ordered the group to stop construction immediately, Yerdelen is still hopeful.

      Investisseurs défaillants du Golfe…

    • article non daté, mais très certainement du 5/12/2018 vu le numéro de la page…
      (et modifié après puisqu’il reprend une annonce du 16/09/2019

      Bonne nouvelle, le groupe serait plutôt sous redressement judiciaire et a été autorisé à poursuivre la commercialisation des pavillons et châteaux…

      http://i.hurimg.com/i/hdn/75/650x650/5bfbcf4567b0a820a05ea3fd

      http://i.hurimg.com/i/hdn/75/650x650/5bfbcf4867b0a820a05ea3ff

      A lawsuit had been filed against the developers of the Burj Al Babas housing project on grounds that the company destroyed trees and dumped excavated soil on forestland in the district of Mudurnu in the northwestern province of Bolu.

      With the criminal case continuing in the Mudurnu court and the company also appealing the court-declared bankruptcy in Istanbul, the firm’s chairman Mehmet Emin Yerdelen told Demirören News Agency on Jan. 16 that the sale of the villas resumed because the Bankruptcy Directorate allowed it.

      Our companies are currently operating in normal conditions under judicial control. Our sales and construction works continue as part of our resumed commercial activities,” he said.
      […]
      But the court now decided on bankruptcy. That was a wrong decision. The total value of the project is about $200 million. We will object to this decision. We still have 250 villas completed and ready to go on sale. Selling only 100 of them would be enough to pay off the debts and complete the project,” Mehmet Emin Yerdelen, the chair of the Sarot Group, told daily Hürriyet.

  • Ivy Barkakati
    http://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/mix-delivery/ivy-barkakati-

    Ivy Barkakati is an American DJ, producer and presenter of a monthly show on the Barcelona-based dublab.es radio, Casa da Crega, where she currently resides.

    She released her first solo debut in 2014 on Hospital Productions, followed two years later by another track “Mango Sheen” on Modern Obscure Music. She has since collaborated with Phran (“Impulse”) on Rhythm Control Barcelona in 2017, with whom she released another track “Manipulate Me” under the alias IVAN on the australian label Best Effort .

    Barkakati’s music style is eclectic. Her DJ sets tend more towards the American house and disco that she started out with, and in the studio, she produces more experimental music with synths, ranging from light ambient to dark industrial sounds. In ITHAKA Series_#3, she’ll be gracing us with one (...)

    #future #bass #rap #funk #lounge #down_tempo #ghostly #future,bass,rap,funk,lounge,down_tempo,ghostly
    http://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/mix-delivery/ivy-barkakati-_06022__1.mp3

  • National Geographic’s 2018 photo contest winner shows stunning aerial view of the desert
    https://www.nationalgeographic.com/photography/proof/2018/12/grand-prize-winner-photo-contest-environment-cars-mojave-desert-

    thousands of Volkswagen and Audi cars sitting idle in the Mojave Desert near Victorville, California.

    #photograph by Jassen Todorov, 2018 National Geographic photo contest

    #ghost #dieselgate

  • Le mall est mort, vive le mall !
    https://www.demainlaville.com/mall-mort-vive-mall

    Aux États-Unis, près de 25% des centres commerciaux pourraient disparaître dans les cinq années à venir. Temples de la consommation, points de ralliement iconiques des teen movies et accélérateurs de l’étalement urbain, ces « #malls » doivent entre autre faire face à la concurrence des sites de #vente_en_ligne. De l’autre côté de l’Atlantique, le modèle français traverse les mêmes difficultés. Pourtant, déjà championne d’Europe du nombre de #centres_commerciaux par habitant, la France continue à distribuer les autorisations de construire, dans une fuite en avant inquiétante.

    #Europacity