Studium, Punctum, and Leaflets Galore!

Studium/Punctum:
In this stark house of few luxuries there looms a dark giant jukebox in the corner; it is completely out of place. This jukebox appears to be the house’s only treasure, but no one is using it for its intended purpose (i.e. to play music). In fact the owners of the jukebox, perhaps the little girl’s parents, have left it in charge of babysitting the child. Obviously the machine is a poor choice for a chaperon, because the little girl is crawling away; it can only sit and watch. However, because the jukebox is the only authority figure in the room, I immediately impose the responsibility of the girl’s safety on the jukebox. This unconscious personification of inanimate objects is why I overlaid the jukebox image with a concerned guardian type figure. The jukebox is caught between wanting to help, and it’s own inability to do so. Juxtaposing this image with the funeral scene speaks to the futility of a machine and a man’s desire to act; the struggle between wanting to do something, and your own inability or lack of power. Also like the younger generation watching the old pass away, our material possessions are forced to watch us die.

Leaflet:
I must admit that this leaflet fails to persuade. I wanted my second image to contain my target audience, a businessman trapped on top of a skyscraper. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any images that fit the bill. The only picture I could find of a ledge overlooking a city had a pigeon on it. And the only picture I could find of a man sitting on a ledge was this red-faced British man holding some sort of ticket. But I had to make do. The target audience of this leaflet was businessmen who are so wrapped up in their own affairs that they don’t pay any attention to larger world crises. I imagined the leaflets being dropped during lunch hour in New York. However, perceiving the stubbornness of my audience I took up their perspective in my indexical sign. I pictured a chatty businessman on his cell phone picking up the leaflet and scribbling down a phone number on it, completely oblivious of its message. I was banking on the hope that if these corporate go-getters had a heart the innocence of “The Last Polar Bear” would touch them.