Seminars

The book presents an analytical account of one of the most dynamic transformational phases of the media landscape in postwar Japan known as the rise of new cinemas in the 1960s, along with its radicalized engagement with the media practices of the Cold War era. I examine the historical and theoretical intersections between media-based governmental and civic activities, cross-medial articulations of state-endorsed academicism in Japan, postwar corporate culture, and various historical motives and geopolitical tensions regarding the meanings and operations of corporate and industrial media. The central focus of the study is Iwanami Productions (est. 1950), the film division of the famed publishing house. Iwanami first began operation as a science laboratory and subsequently evolved into a major provider of state and corporate sponsored educational, science, infrastructural and public relations media works, and soon later a key player in the new cinemas of the 1960s in Japan. Iwanami, Tsunoda argues, most vividly animated, mapped, and constituted what I describe as processive technics: the key material and epistemological nodes that articulated recursive knowledge networks, an industrial-operational web with self-referential relationality, and a looping circuity of media participation, each of which generated and organized the shifting horizons of techno-industrialization processes and epistemic transitions specific to the corresponding history of postwar Japan.

The Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, in London was praised in the nineteenth century as the “botanical metropolis of the world.” Since then historians have theorized it as a “center of calculation,” the hub of a global “network” that dictated the logic of how plants, seeds, and expertise moved between botanic gardens within the British empire and beyond. This paper looks at the Kew herbarium, which was first formalized in the middle of the nineteenth century to collect botanical data in a methodical manner and which grew exponentially during the period of high imperialism, in an attempt to understand the kind of work that Kew’s networks might have done. What changed with the institution of the herbarium? How did the accumulation of botanical data impact extractive practices on the ground? And what does the analytic framework of the network explain and what does it occlude?

The history of film calls to mind unforgettable photographs, famous directors, and the glitz and hustle of the media business. But there is another tale to tell that connects film as a material to the twentieth century’s history of war, destruction, and cruelty. This story comes into focus during World War II at the factories of Tennessee Eastman, where photographic giant Kodak produced the rudiments of movie magic. Not far away, at Oak Ridge, Kodak was also enriching uranium for the Manhattan Project—uranium mined in the Belgian Congo and destined for the bomb that fell on Hiroshima. While the world’s largest film manufacturer transformed into a formidable military contractor, across the ocean its competitor Agfa grew entangled with Nazi Germany’s machinery of war. After 1945, Kodak’s film factories stood at the front lines of a new, colder war, as their photosensitive products became harbingers of the dangers of nuclear fallout. Following scientists, soldiers, prisoners, and spies through Kodak’s and Agfa’s global empires, Alice Lovejoy links the golden age of cinema and photography to colonialism, the military- industrial complex, radioactive dust, and toxic waste. Revelatory and chilling, Tales of Militant Chemistry shows how film became a weapon whose chemistry irrevocably shaped the world we live in today.