Conference Paper by Utako Shindo Kanai
Luce Irigaray Circle Conference, 2014, Melbourne
In   addressing   writings   by   Irigaray   and   other   thinkers,   this   presentation   discusses   a   particular  event  that  prompted  my  PhD  project,  in  which  I  investigates  the  notion  of  ‘the   untranslatable’  that  is  to  be  embodied  through  the  language  of  art.
The  event  occurred  2  years  ago,  when  I  visited  my  grandmother  who  has  dementia  in  a   hospital.   When   we   were   looking   at   a   mountain   through   the   hospital   window,   she   mistook  it  as  being  another  mountain  that  she  personally  associates  with.  However,  the   way   she   described   the   scenery   and   enunciated   the   name   of   the   mountain,   sounded   so
artistic   and   evocative   that   it   felted   emotionally   true   to   me.   Her   speech   altered   my   perception  of  where  we  were,  further,  turning  it  into  somewhere  else.
1.  Verbal  communication
Irigaray’s  early  researches,  on  the  verbal  production  of  senile  dementia  patients  and  the   transference   between   two   women   for   analytic   treatment,   have   provided   useful   perspectives   to   articulate   my   experience.   Her   attempt   to   construct   a   “space/time 1 ”   appears   to   aim   at   enabling   us   to   breathe   and   enunciate   outside   of   “the   model   of   subjectivity 2 ”.
In   ‘Sentence   Production   among   Schizophrenics   and   Senile   Dementia   Patients’,   she
analyzes  clinical  studies,  and  writes:
…   there   is   minimal   distance   from   linguistic   knowledge   in   the   sentences   produced  by  the  senile  dementia  patient…They  are  only  material  for  idiolectical   messages  already  transmitted  in  the  past...  The  adherence  to  experience  to  the
content  of  the  utterance,  determines  the  functioning  of  discourse.
3
Unlike   normal   lecutors,   in   the   verbal   production   of   dementia   patients,   the   strategy   to   master  and  play  language  as  an  “object,  a  set  of  rules  to  manipulate”  is  lost  through  lack
of   “the   model   of   subjectivity”.   She   concludes   that   this   is   “due   to   a   dysfunctional   relationship  between  the  speaking  subject  and  the  addressee,  or  the  world”.
Based  on  my  experience  with  my  grandmother,  the  lack  of  “the  model  of  subjectivity”  or   unavailability  to  master  language  does  not  appear  as  a  negative  situation  necessarily.  It   is  true  that  she  has  an  adherence  to  the  beautiful  scene  in  the  past  and  memories  around   the  place.  She  was  “spoken  by  language”  conveying  the  message  that  there  is  a  beautiful   mountain.   When   I   listened   to   her   speech   in   that   instance,   I   knew   it   was   not   all   about   telling   her   personal   story,   but   to   show   me   the   beautiful   scene   by   means   of   artistic   language   coming   out   from   her   lips.   Then,   I   shall   remember   another’s   lips   in   that
1  Luce  Irigaray,  “The  limits  of  transference”  in   To  speak  is  Never  Neutral,    (London:  Continuum,  2002),  242
2  Luce  Irigaray,  “Sentence  Production  among  Schizophrenics  and  Senile  Dementia  Patients”  in   To  speak  is  Never  Neutral,
(London:  Continuum,  2002),  94
3  ibd.  93

Conference Paper by Utako Shindo Kanai
Luce Irigaray Circle Conference, 2014, Melbourne
situation,  my  own  lips,  being  closed  in  order  to  listen  to  the  language,  or  opened  to  send   a  sign  of  listening.
In   The  limits  of  transference ,  Irigaray  examines  psychoanalytic  treatment,  in  particular,   between  female  analyst  and  patient.  She  argues  that  transference  is  irresolvable  as  there   are  no  sexual  differences  but  “qualitative” 4  differences.  She  writes,
“…   where   one   also   discovers   the   perception   of   the   possibility   or   necessity   of   calm.   An   interval   between   the   two,   a   release   from   quantitative   estimates,   to   allow  the  opening  on  to  an  encounter  of  a  different,  peaceful  quality 5 ”.
She  considers  that  “this  dimension  constitutes  the  horizon  of  the  possible  unfolding  of   an   analysis   as   an   opening   or   an   enigma”,   and   that   “contrives   a   space   or   site   of   liberty
between  two  bodies,  two  flesh” 6 .    She  gives  a  further  explaination  of  this  ‘site’:
“For  the  analyst  constantly  reinterpreting  his/her  transference  is  a  necessity…   the  basis  on  which  he  or  she  listens  and  give  space-­‐time,  the  basis  on  which  he   or  she  gives  himself  or  herself  as  the  space  –time  in  which  he  or  she  listens.” 7
She  recognizes  this  ‘space-­‐time’  as  “a  gift  moving  from  inside  to  outside,  offering  itself  or   putting  itself  forward  as  the  site  in  which  the  analytic  scene  takes  place.” 8
Though  I  am  not  an  analyst  and  my  grand  mother  is  not  my  patient  for  psychoanalytic   research,  Irigaray’s  writing  inspires  me  to  connect  the  verbal  communication  between   me  and  her  to  the  creation  of  space  and  time  or  to  a  site  where  ‘artistic  scenes’  can  take   place.
Since   I   went   back   Tokyo   to   live   in   2010,   I   had   been   visiting   her   once   a   month.   At   the   beginning,  I  was  there  as  her  grand  daughter,  but  after  the  event,  I  was  there,  indeed,   also  as  an  artistic  practitioner.  It  is  not  that  I  recognized  her  as  a  subject  or  object  for  my   artwork.  It  is  because  I  notice  that  the  interaction  between  her  and  myself  opens  space
and  time,  prompting  possibilities  for  translation.
Every  time  I  see  her,  I  notice  the  progress  of  her  dementia,  and  as  well  my  own  growth,   in  other  words,  aging.  It  is  said  that  from  around  the  age  of  30  our  brain  become  more
able  to  make  connections  between  knowledge  previously  stored 9 ,  while  the  capacity  of   memory  starts  to  decline.  To  comprehend  new  things,  instead  of  memorizing  anew,  my   brain   can   compensate   for   the   gap   by   collecting   and   connecting   fragments   of   existing   data.
4  “Luce  Irigaray,  The  limits  of  transference”   The  irigaray  Reader.   Margaret  Whitford  ed.  Massachusetts,  Blackwell   publicshers,  1991,  p.112
5  ibd.  P.115
6  ibd.  P.115
7
7  ibd.  P.115
8  ibd.p.116
9  Yuya  Ikegami….

Conference Paper by Utako Shindo Kanai
Luce Irigaray Circle Conference, 2014, Melbourne
I   just   listen   to   what   she   says,   and   accept   and   join   fragments   inside   of   my   brain.   In   so   doing,   it   feels   possible   to   save   a   space   between   her   and   myself   that   allows   for   understandings  to  dwell.  There  no  need  to  correct  her  misunderstandings.  My  attempt   to  listen  to  and  translate  her  originally  enunciations,  prompts  new  formation  of  artistic
languages  and  understandings  (and  meaning).
My   work,   which   is   now   presented   George   Paton   Gallery,   embodies   the   formation   of   artistic   languages,   being   translated   from   my   grandmother’s   enunciations.   What   makes   the  mountain  significant  to  my  grandmother  is  untranslatable  to  me.  However,  through   translating   and   unfolding   her   enunciation   by   artistic   means,   it   feels   possible   to   come   closer  to  the  significance.  The  images  that  comprise  the  work  are  sourced  from  various   locations.   Each   image   is   a   fragment   to   be   united   in   ‘translation’   that   attains   ‘the   untranslatable’.
2.  Translation  in  art
In  his  essay  titled   The  task  of  translator ,  Walter  Benjamin  writes  that  there  is  a  “greater
(or  pure)  language”,  which  is  untranslatable  but  can  be  attained  by  translation,  in  other
words  what  he  calls  the  “sacred  growth  of  language”.  He  writes:     so   translation…   must   lovingly,   and   in   detail,   fashion   in   its   own   language   a   counterpart   to   the   originals   mode   of   intention,   in   order   to   make   both   of   them   recognizable   as   fragments   of   a   vessel,   as   fragments   of   a   greater   language.
(Benjamin  1923) 10
Translation   begins   from   not   knowing.   Then   we   survey   what   we   have   already   known,   from  which  to  select  pieces  that  may  form  new  unit.  Every  time  we  translate  something,   we  go  back  and  see  the  point  in  the  distance,  where  we’d  like  to  head  towards.
Benjamin  states  that  translations  “determine  how  distant  what  is  hidden  within  them  is   from  revelation,  how  close  it  might  become  with  knowledge  of  this  distance  (Benjamin,
1923) 11 ”.   Derrida,   who   interprets   Benjamin’s   essay,   writes   that   the   ‘knowledge   of   this   distance’   enables   translators   to   relate   to   the   ‘pure   language’.   He   also   analyses   that
“though   this   situation   can   be   considered   purely   extreme   one,   it   does   not   eliminate
various  degrees,  latency,  intervals  or  space  in-­‐between.” 12
These   are   the   images   of   earlier   ‘translation’   of   the   event   (with   my   grandmother),   entitled   Understanding  of  Misunderstanding.
Among   various   imageries,   horizontal   lines   and  mountain  ridges  were  connected  and  similar  shapes  were  juxtaposed.  Small  pieces   of  paper  clay  object  were  located  on  an  acrylic  sheet.  They  created  different  shades  of   shadows  on  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  and  as  well  projected  their  reflections  on  the  acrylic   sheet.  [Slide-­‐20]  I  intended  them  to  highlight  the  distance,  the  space  in  between  objects,   shadows,   and   reflections.   Here   it   was   also   considered   that   how   they   will   appear   in   a
10
Steven  Rendall,  tarns.
“ The  translator’s  task,  Walter  Benjamin,”  ( Traduction,  terminologie,  redaction.   vol.10,  n2,  1997),
161.
11
Steven  Rendall,  tarns.
“ The  translator’s  task,  Walter  Benjamin.”  ( Traduction,  terminologie,  redaction.   vol.10,  n2,  1997),
157.
12
Jacques  Derrida,   Derrida  Au  Japon,  translated  by  the  author  (Tokyo:  Housei  University  Publishing,  2011),  57.

Conference Paper by Utako Shindo Kanai
Luce Irigaray Circle Conference, 2014, Melbourne
viewer’s  visual  field.  Will  there  be  another  translation  prompted  in  the  distance  between   the  work  and  a  viewer,  and  forming  another  ‘mountain’?
In   his   essay   The   Emancipated   Spectator ,   Jacques   Rancière   considers   the   ‘distance’
“inherent   in   the   performance   (…teaching,   playing,   speaking,   writing,   making   art   or   looking  at  it)  itself” 13 ,  and  recognized  the  distance  as  “an  autonomous  thing  between  the   idea  of  the  artist  and  the  sensation  or  comprehension  of  the  spectator.” 14  His  argument   confirms   an   important   perspective   for   ‘translation’   in   art,   which   the   distance   between
an  artist  and  an  observer  can  allow  different  understandings  to  dwell  in  the  spatiality.
3.  Untranslatable  place
This  ‘spatiality’  of  distance  can  be  recognized  as  an  interval,  blank  or  empty  space  that   can  receive  all  kinds  of  thing.  These  notions  can  be  found  in  articulation  of  non  Western   traditional  terms,  such  as  the  ancient  Greek  concept  of  ‘ chora’  and  the  Japanese  spatio-­‐ temporal   concept   of   ‘ ma’.   These   concepts   similarly   talk   about   space-­‐time   that   offers   spatiality   that   is   too   unique   to   be   translated   into   other   languages.   In   English   we   may   attempt  to  say   chora  as  an  empty  container  and   ma  as  an  interval.  However,  they  still
remain  untranslatable.
We   can   find   an   example   of   discussion   around   these   notions   during   the   International   conference   for   architecture   Anyone ,   held   in   1991.   While   some   architect   such   as   Arata
Isozaki,   tried   to   translate   these   notions   into   each   other   [Slide-­‐23],   Derrida   argued   to   consider  them  as  ‘untranslatable’.  He  stated:
The   place   for   translation   is   untranslatable.   You   cannot   translate   ma   into   chora   and   so   on   and   so   forth.   But   there   are   places   of   translations,   for   translations,   which  are  not  translatable.  …  And  if  we  define   ma  as  a  place  for  translation,  it’s  a   place   for   translation,   not   only   translation   in   the   sematic,   linguistic   sense,   but   translation  as  transfer  from,  for  movements,  transference  of  objects  from  others,   and  so  forth...  (Derrida,  1991) 15
The   way   in   which   Derrida   makes   points   does   not   necessarily   idealize   non-­‐western   concepts.   Instead,   he   articulates   the   differences   at   the   very   point   where   translation
takes  place  that  is  ‘untranslatable’.
This  ‘untranslatable’  place  reminds  me  of  Irigaray’s  articulation  of  space  and  time,  as  a   site  in  which  the  psycho-­‐analytic  scene  took  place  between  the  two.  The  language  and   subjectivity   were   transferred   between   the   speech   and   the   listening,   between   the   two   bodies.   As   I   discussed   previously,   as   to   how   artistic   scene   can   take   place,   we   can   also   witness   transferring   between   materials,   bodies,   locations,   or   understandings   and   meanings,  and  so  on.  Thereby,  I  discuss  that  art  can  be  considered  as  a  form  of  language,   and  that  it  can  be  formed  through  translational  processes,  which  takes  place  in  space-­‐ time,  that  is  untranslatable.
13     Jacques  Rancière ,   The  Emancipated  Spectator.
(N.Y.:Verso  Books,  2009),  17.
14
Ibd.  14
15  “Discussion  A-­‐1”,   Anyone.
Ed.  Anyone  Corporation.  (New  York:  Rizzoli  International  Publication,  1991),  90.

Conference Paper by Utako Shindo Kanai
Luce Irigaray Circle Conference, 2014, Melbourne
This   ‘untranslatable’   spatiality   can   be   considered   in   relation   as   an   ideal   space   for   conceptualization.   Perhaps   I   could   say   that   my grandmother’s expressing ‘mountain’ constructed a new ‘mountain’ conceptually, where she and I were embraced and “cobelong
16
”. As  Irigary  writes  in   To  pain  the  invisible ;
We  co-­‐belong  to  this  living  world  and  we  exchange,  indeed  sometimes  reverse,   the  roles  between  us.
The  same  applies  for  believing…  that  I  could  transform  the  things  into  spectacles   and  myself  into  an  other  or  an  other  into  me  through  a  specular  power  only.  This   implies  that  the  imaginary  has  already  been  substituted  for  the  real,  and  to  some   extend  death  for  life.
Through   translating,   transforming   or   transferring   her   speech,   spoken   perhaps   by   the   mountain,   into   the   language   of   art,   ‘we’   co-­‐belong   to   the   spatiality,   which   is   untranslatable  yet  possible  beyond  any  limits.
16
Luce  Irigaray ,  “To  paint  the  invisible”  Helen  A.  Feilding  trans.   Continental  Philosophy  Review   (2004)  37:401