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It starts with a dress, or dresses. Among a menagerie of rainbow variations, certain features are standard: lace and ruffle-decked blouses under jumpers, aprons, or high-waisted belled and crinolined knee-length skirts; more skin covered than bare; headwear including bonnets, miniature hats, or massive bows over ringlets and long tresses. So many ruffles; so much lace (Fig. 1). Beginning in the late 1990s,gothic lolitas—overwhelmingly young women in their teens and twenties, and overwhelmingly girly in their outsized bows, platform Mary Jane shoes, and petticoated skirts—stood out as defiantly, bizarrely out of place and time on the Tokyo street scene, all bright white and concrete in Harajuku, a built-up postwar neighborhood of Tokyo known as a youth haven since the 1960s. More than twenty years later, although most Harajuku fashions have died out in keeping with a fad's typically short life cycle, the gothic lolitas have persisted and even multiplied, thanks in large part to the Internet, which has helped muster an army of misfit girl aristocrats not just in Japan but around the globe.

Locale is one of the basic elements of place, referring to the physical settings and visual appearance of a place. Understanding and representing a locale is of great importance in terms of human perception and human activity. However, taking a quantitative measurement of the visual appearance of urban environment has proven to be challenging because visual information is inherently ambiguous and semantically impoverished. To mitigate this issue, this paper employs street-level images as the proxy for urban physical appearance, utilizes the recently developed image semantic segmentation techniques to parse an urban scene into scene elements, and proposes a framework for locale representation using scene elements. The framework is composed of two major components: street scene ontology and street visual descriptor, which are aimed at street scene qualitative understanding and quantitative representation respectively. A case study is developed to demonstrate the application and advantage of the street scene ontology and street visual descriptor. A series of quantitative analyses demonstrates the ability and great potential of the framework for investigating the connections between place and other socioeconomic factors.

Photographic culture is a major part of the tourist experience, whether it is the drunken selfie posted in an online chatroom, or the carefully composed street scene published in an upmarket guidebook. The pictures shown here in this photographic study attempt to respond critically to the different dialectics of the camera, bodies, architecture, and light that prevail during the hours of night in Magaluf and Palma on the Spanish island of Mallorca. These images also aim to transgress the boundaries between the different visual cultures of these places because they seem to be outmoded in the way they socially categorise tourists, in what, on closer inspection, is evidently becoming part of a more ‘liquid modernity’ – to use Zygmunt Bauman’s term – than the one that is still being portrayed. (Note: This paper expands upon themes raised in a short article previously published in 2015) [2].

This chapter juxtaposes two recent experiments in the televisual long take, both featured in eight-episode HBO seasons from 2014: the crime drama True Detective and the serio-comic Looking. True Detective foregrounded a “declarative” long take halfway through its first season, an elaborate Steadicam immersion that quickly became one of the most celebrated shots in American television. By contrast with that one-off tour de force, Looking made “stealth” long takes part of its vocabulary from the beginning, including a shot from the eighth episode describing an awkward post-break-up San Francisco street scene. These two very different articulations of the shot as extended time mapped out divergent trajectories for the language of “cinema” in the territory of television: the auteurist announcement of mastery and the observational expression of uncertainty.

James Price, Massachusetts Yankee and successful Boston merchant, visited Paris in August 1792, just when the French Revolution was entering into a new and ominous phase. On a trip designed to combine business with pleasure, he ended up witnessing the famous Journée du Dix AoÛt (Tenth of August) – dubbed the “Second French Revolution” by contemporaries – when provincial militia and national guards assaulted the Tuileries palace, massacred the king's Swiss Guards, and toppled the Bourbon monarchy from its centuries-old throne. As a fairly unbiased and certainly perspicacious observer – though with moderate revolutionary sympathies – Price must be included in the list of more famous, and more highly partisan, American witnesses of revolution, notably Thomas Jefferson, John Trumbull, and Gouverneur Morris. Specific topics addressed by Price include women during the Revolution, the dynamic between crowd action and attempts of municipal authorities at control, and the development of a Revolutionary fashion. Price's fascinating diary is not only a running account of events surrounding the fateful Tenth, but also an evaluation and commentary of an outsider, combined with a lively eyewitness description of the Revolutionary street scene. Not included in Marcel Reinhard's standard study on the Journée du Dix, Price's hour-by-hour chronology provides a valuable corroboration of and supplement to Reinhard. His account notes also provide insight into the eighteenth-century Continental travel habits of Americans on the “Grand Tour” and on business.

Street Scene Since late 2006, I've been taking photographs on a six-block stretch of Broadway St. in Los Angeles, known as the Historic Theater District. Once a jewel of the city, this area has in ...

After Madame Sosostris’s Tarot card reading, “The Burial of the Dead” winds up with a sixteen-line urban street scene situated in the neighborhood where Eliot worked at Lloyds Bank: London Bridge leads directly into King William Street; Eliot worked on Lombard near the intersection of King William Street. Beginning and ending with references to Charles Baudelaire, the “Unreal City” (WL 60) of these lines (60–76) blends Eliot’s London, Baudelaire’s Paris, and Dante’s hell. Here, commuters who cross London Bridge to their jobs in the city’s financial district are superimposed onto two categories of people Dante installed at the periphery of hell: the morally neutral and virtuous heathen (born before Christ). Here also, two veterans of the Battle of Mylae, fought in 260 BCE, suggest not only veterans of the Great War of 1914–18 but also participants in ancient fertility rites as documented by Frazer in The Golden Bough.

The news that Ernst Ludwig Kirchner's painting “Berliner Strassenszene“ (Berlin Street Scene) will be up for sale in New York on November 8, 2006 has stirred up the international art scene for the past two months. The sale was announced shortly after the Berlin state senate had returned the painting to the heirs of its original owners, Jewish art collectors Alfred and Tekla Hess. For the past 26 years the piece had been hanging in the Brücke Museum in Berlin and formed a cornerstone of the museum's expressionist collection. Bought, from public funds, in 1980, for a little over $ 1 Million US, the painting is expected to sell this fall for $ 18 Million to $ 25 Million US.

Reid, Barbara. Picture a Tree. Toronto: North Winds Press, 2011. Print. The cover notes for this picture book tell us to “Picture a tree – now look again!” Award winning Toronto author and illustrator, Barbara Reid, encourages readers to see not just the trees, but how people use them, what they mean and what we can see in them. However it is not just the trees that demand a second look. The book itself is the most amazing collection of artwork – all made of plasticine, a modeling clay! On each page showing a tree in leaf, there are hundreds of tiny plasticine leaves. When Reid shows us a street scene where the trees make a leafy tunnel, the street, the cars, the house fronts and the people walking their dog are all fine plasticine work. When she shows us shade trees as umbrellas, not only is the woman with the baby and the man on a scooter made of the plasticine, the shadow cast by the tree is, too. As the book moves through the seasons from spring to winter, Reid really does find many different ways to look at trees. She sees the leafless branches as a drawing against the sky, falling leaves as a good-bye party and snow-covered trees as trees in snowsuits. The text is brief and easy to read; no more than a single sentence on each page. The concepts and words are simple enough for children ages three and up to enjoy. Most children reading this book will not see the artwork as different from any other illustration. It is only in the expanses of sky or snow that it is easy to see the plasticine. Because of this, parents will enjoy Picture a Tree on a different level from the children with whom they share it. Highly recommended for public and elementary school libraries. Highly recommended: 4 out of 4 starsReviewer: Sandy Campbell Sandy is a Health Sciences Librarian at the University of Alberta, who has written hundreds of book reviews across many disciplines. Sandy thinks that sharing books with children is one of the greatest gifts anyone can give.

Throughout the period 1690–1750 women poets wrote far more extensively about the country than they did about the city. Despite the rapid expansion of London during this period and women writers’ increasing exposure to metropolitan opportunities for publication and print markets, no female poet embraced urban life with quite the same excitement or vigour as her male counterparts. Anne Finch’s ‘Ballad to Mrs Catherine Fleming in London’, composed about 1718, recalls Swift’s recent ‘Description of a City Shower’ (1710) and John Gay’s Trivia (1716) in its vivid rendering of the ‘jarring sounds in London streets’ replete with street vendors and post bell, ‘hurry, smoke, and drums’. Yet the liveliness of the street scene is invoked to supply an unfavourable contrast to the peace and solitude of the countryside, where the only sounds are whistling farmer’s boys and distant sheep bells. The aural contrast shades into the moral (no need to lock one’s door at night in the country) and then finally into the generic.

So asks Krzysztof Wodiczko, the artist whose diverse projects have in many instances explored the encounter of the stranger, the immigrant, the marginal, and the homeless on the one hand, and the North American metropolis on the other.

The aim of the paper is to give insight in the effects of the Rotterdam drug policy: are there, at first sight, improvements in liveability within the city and in the quality of life of marginalised people? This is an explorative study based on policy documents, literature and qualitative interviews. The Rotterdam street image is described and an overview of measures taken by the municipality to combat and control drug-related and other problems are presented. In general, the street image in Rotterdam became less strongly characterised by the presence of homeless and addicts than in the 1990s and early 2000. In the well-known nuisance-related locations associated with those years the visible presence of the addicts, the drug dealers and the homeless was greatly reduced. In recent years the control of the municipality over the (social) addiction care has increased. Compared with a decade ago, the Rotterdam drug policy has become more pro-active. Although the elements of compulsion and pressure have been in...

The time is long past when Elmer Rice (1892–1967) was commonly compared to Eugene O’Neill, but he retains a place in the history of American drama. Of his twenty-four Broadway plays, produced over four decades, The Adding Machine (1923) and Street Scene (1929) are taught in colleges as examples of American expressionism and naturalism, respectively, and receive occasional productions. Counsellor-at-Law, revived off-off-Broadway in 2004, proved to be still a dynamic piece of theatre.

The modern police systematically investigates the citizen without special prompting. It is an agent that ceaselessly follows traces wherever they lead and distrusts everyone.1 One consequence of the emergence of the modern police, famously analyzed by Michel Foucault, is the increasing internalization of police control: the omnipresent modern police extends its disciplining power to the internal fabric of the modern subject. More than simply investigating everywhere and everything, the police burrows its way into the heart of the citizen.2 This process is captured most vividly in what Louis Althusser calls his “little theoretical theater,” a street scene in which the subject is constituted by virtue of being addressed by the state: “Hey, you there!”3 The agent doing this calling, who acts for and on behalf of the state and therefore enacts the Ideological State Apparatus is none other than the “most commonplace everyday police.” This Althusser-Foucault view might be called the interpellative-disciplinary theory of the subject, according to which the modern subject is constituted by the modern police.

‘These violent delights have violent ends’ was printed in bold type across the centre page of the programme and seemed to have been Terry Hands’ central text in planning this production. Almost every detail contributed to its robust energy, from the opening street scene, with a naked flame burning high on an upstage wall creating a sense of foreboding before an opening explosion of exhilarating violence, to the enthusiasm with which Juliet passed the time while waiting for the Nurse’s return with a message from Romeo by beating the carpets hung from clotheslines cluttering the stage. This was a production in which it was abundantly clear that the director intended to dispel any illusions of joyful romance. Several key directorial and design decisions dominated the production and clearly influenced the actors.