Journal of European Popular Culture - Volume 2, Issue 2, 2012

Many examples of historic graffiti have been shown to be worthy of attention and conservation. The examples discussed in this article have been selected for their previous academic study, enabling rational assessment. This work does not suggest that only those examples of historic graffiti that have been subject to academic investigation can be evaluated and classified. This article, the result of a collaboration between two individuals with complementary interests in building conservation and contextual studies in art and design, brings together formal techniques used in the assessment of cultural significance in traditional architectural conservation and established theories in the evaluation of art. It is the purpose of this work to help those who are attempting to evaluate the merit of graffiti to do so.

The current Scottish system that assesses cultural significance may be incomplete in its evaluation of graffiti. This necessitates a supplementary investigation of the artistic characteristics and merit of graffiti.

Almost all graffiti could be said to be 'art', using established definitions, but not 'good' art. This evaluation may only be undertaken by experts, as with other aspects of identification of cultural significance within the built environment.

This article focuses on the representation of the spy Guy Burgess, one of the famous Cambridge ring, in two very successful British heritage films, An Englishman Abroad (John Schlesinger, UK, 1983) and Another Country (Marek Kanievska, UK, 1984). The article argues that the films rely on popular notions of Englishness as politically safe and non-extremist, thus fabricating a view of the past that misrepresents Burgess in the effort to normalize him. Similarly, stereotypical views of gay men as frivolous and non-ideological are amply exploited in the films' portrayal of their protagonist. Burgess's upper-class English roots are used to package him as part of the heritage experience, while his homosexuality is not only presented as the reason for spying, but it is also constructed as a camp performance, effectively defusing the threat of ideological commitment and political betrayal. The radical, lethal and devoutly Marxist Burgess is thus stripped of his ideology and turned into a safe national icon.

This article argues the progress of John Schlesinger (1926–2003) as a film artist, up to and including The Day of the Locust (1975), was dependent on whether he was willing to settle for surfaces or whether he would insist on an inner rationale and validity for his work: whether he would build upward from the most stringent perceptions towards a virtuoso display of them, or begin at the top with slickness and add just enough clever dialogue and facilely bitter comment to provide marketable Weltschmerz for popular audiences worldwide. In the end, Schlesinger settled for surfaces – sometimes far less – in a career that, by the time of Yanks (1979) and Honky Tonk Freeway (1981), could only descend from so much slickness into lamentable sorriness. By considering this British director's first three, and best, films – A Kind of Loving (Schlesinger, 1962), Billy Liar (Schlesinger, 1963) and Darling (Schlesinger, 1965) – I propose to demonstrate how each of this trio of works holds both the promise of cinematic growth and the prospect of directorial delinquency into which Schlesinger would ultimately decline.

The local festival dedicated to the Anniversary of the Vision of Agia (saint) or Osia (venerable, blessed saint) Pelagia is celebrated on the Greek island of Tinos, and is dedicated to one of the most recent Orthodox saints, Agia Pelagia, a nun who was sanctified in 1970. After the Greek War of Independence (1821) broke out, the pious nun Pelagia had several mystical visions that led to the finding of the miraculous icon of the Annunciation. According to the tradition, Pelagia repeatedly saw, in her visions, the Panagia (Virgin Mary), who ordered her to start digging to find her icon. In 1823, the icon was unearthed in the field where it had remained for about 850 years. 'Pelagia's Vision' is celebrated annually on 23 July. During the festival the church housing her skull next to her cell in the monastery of Kekhrovouno, where she had the visions, is particularly important. Based on a presentation of this festival and other relevant rituals from Greece where I have conducted fieldwork, this article will explore aspects of history, memory and myth and the ways in which the past is represented in the Greek context.

In this article I discuss the close and diverse relationship between German musicians, Einstürzende Neubauten and their city of origin, Berlin, in order to show how this relationship has enabled the band both to encapsulate a unique historical–cultural moment and to extend the boundaries of sonic art. I have structured my discussion around the various interpretations of Neubauten's name, their philosophy of music, their use of the 'island-city' of West Berlin as instrumentation and text during the 1980s and the development and changes which occurred with this practice post-unification. The article concludes with an analysis of their 2004 concert, Grundstück, which took place in former East Berlin's Palast der Republik.