>[!INFO]+ Meta >Author:: Kevin Murray >Area:: [[South Project]] >Date:: 2005 >Reference:: 'Flightless south' _Empires, Ruins + Networks: The Transcultural Agenda in Art_, N Papastergiadis & Scott McQuire (eds) Melbourne University Press (2005) >Tags:: #text #south In the context of Empire, particularly for today's Anglo alliance, the South is a region that is often taken for granted. The recent film _Master and Commander: On the Far Side of the World_ is a telling example of this complacency. _Master and Commander_ combines the strengths of the Anglo alliance. It is a skilfully made, almost balletic film set on the seas around the South American coast during the Napoleonic era. Though a Hollywood production, it benefits from three seasoned Australian film masters-director Peter Weir, cinematographer Russell Boyd and actor Russell Crowe. In both content and realisation, the film celebrates the global adventure pursued by the British empire. The story begins with a surprise attack on the captain's ship by a French vessel, the Acheron. It's an Al Qaeda-like hit that signals a deadly new enemy threatening the survival of the British nation. Incensed by Acheron's terroristic strategy, Capt. Jack Aubrey strays from his mission in dogged pursuit of the enemy ship. But not all agree with the captain's obsession. Opposing this tack is Dr. Stephen Maturin, the ship's surgeon, whose theatre of heroism is the wounded body rather than the high seas. The doctor is a man of science, eager to gather new knowledge from the world they pass by, particularly the Galapagos Islands and the flightless cormorant he spies from a distance. United in their patriotism, the captain and doctor have a relationship which parallels that of Bush and Blair. One argues for resolute action, the other attempts to moderate passion with reason. Despite their differences, they maintain the same course. Eventually their ship does catch up with the Acheron. Through a clever adaptation of the doctor's botanical knowledge, they capture the French vessel in bloody battle. In gratitude for the doctor's support, the captain promises Maturin time on the islands to study the new world and catch the elusive flightless cormorant. But a last minute threat forces him to withdraw the offer and they sail off to pursue the enemy. In consoling the doctor for this missed opportunity, the captain reminds him that the bird that so fascinates him is flightless, and therefore 'not likely to be going anywhere'. The two men share a knowing smile at this good fortune and head off into another thrilling adventure, happy that their world remains secure for the future exploration _Master and Commander_ maintains a steady plot which is superbly realised on screen. But a question remains. To what extent was its colonial adventure based on the assumption that the south was a passive realm, unable to either resist or evade the claims of the industrious race from the north? Such a possibility invites a challenge. Is there a way of understanding the flightless bird as an active creature in its own right? Should it always be consigned to the margins of nature, as a curious joke like the dodo, moa or penguin? In finding dignity in the flightless bird, there may be a way to counterbalance the more restless interests that cruise the southern hemisphere. Today, the south is dismissed in popular media as a region beyond the rule of reason. The news stories that appear about South Africa usually concern AIDS and violence. From South America, we only hear of drug cartels and political corruption. And the Pacific appears in the newspaper only when there is civil unrest. The news filter acts like a set of blinkers, leaving us undistracted in our absorption in the north. The north sets the pace, in fashion, technology and ideas. The south, like Dr Maturin's cormorant, is stranded. Like Aubrey and Maturin, we are largely focused on the main stage where the clash of civilisations engages the devout east against the technological west. Whatever happens in the other half of the world seems nowhere as urgent as the battle between the empire and its ruins, between the Anglo alliance and Moslem warriors. In a playful manner, _Master and Commander_ confirms the dominance of the main game in our world. Thankfully, this scenario does not fit comfortably on the emerging global reality. There is a fresh energy in the South. The oppressive governments that isolated southern countries from each other have crumbled. Apartheid and military dictatorships that reinforced dominant economic powers have been replaced with democracies that are eager for dialogue with each other. President Lula in Brazil is reconstituting an axis of non-aligned nations, with South Africa and India as key players. Countries like Argentina have learnt how to survive the IMF. Previously rogue nations such as Libya, Venezuela and Bolivia are now fostering bilateral relations. We can no longer take the south for granted. This movement is given voice by the region's artists. Creative agents like Kendell Geers, Lisa Reihana and Carlos Capelan are flexing their wings. Kendell holds tenaciously to the raw reality that cannot be assimilated into the media simulacra. Lisa finds the traditional Maori structures that readily infiltrate modern technology. And Carlos eulogises the fluidity of the south, as it emerges in all four corners of the world. One essential feature that distinguishes the south is the inevitable coexistence of traditional and modern worlds. Whereas in the north, traditional worlds are experienced purely on the cultural stage, in the south these worlds are an intrinsic part of the political reality. The rooted world of tradition lives alongside the mobile world of modernity. They are destined never to fit, only to intersect. It is in this southern dialectic that artists have a critical role to play. Like tricksters, their challenge is to being the two worlds together in strange magical forms, involving both ancestral spirits and Coca-Cola. Put together, the three artistic perspectives from Africa, the Pacific and Latin America, do not cohere into a singular vision. At this stage in our thinking, it seems more important to take apart our preconceptions of the south as a region that can be largely taken for granted. It is from this unpicking that a new conversation can begin. And who knows what might happen. Cormorants might fly.