
Rene Magritte paints a pipe and paints an announcement of surreal negation: “this is not a pipe”. The image takes on a new significance, or rather, it is almost emptied of meanings, in the sense that meanings become residual, remnant and on the edge of being ruined. With the pronouncement that this is not a pipe, we no longer see a pipe but a painting of a pipe. The pipe, the pronouncement and the painting are all called into question. Is the image representing an actually existing pipe, perhaps Magritte’s favorite thinking pipe? Is the image representing pipes in general or a French pipe or other series of pipes? Are actually existing pipes also representations, perhaps of the indomitable thinking intellectual? What does the pronouncement refer to? Does it announce the representation of a pipe as not a pipe? Or does it announce that the actually existing pipe as not pipe? Or that what the pipe represents are intellectuals as not intellectuals? Or is it announcing the painting as not a pipe? Is the painting of a pipe that is not a pipe a painting at all? If so, what is the painting of? A non-pipe or non-intellectual intellectuals?
The Treachery of Images, 1929Michel Foucault writes of the intrusion of speech in Magritte’s painting, creating a circular reference that breaks down the affirmation of a pipe, short-circuiting the discourse that making the painting meaningful or beautiful. Meaning implodes, collapses inwards. What then? Perhaps then, there’ll be the freedom to make our own meanings from the ruins of meaning – the intellectual’s vanity of freedom (while smoking a pipe). Thus, there is irony in the painting, and also irony in Magritte’s and Foucault’s own intellectual pronouncements. But the point is Magritte has painted, Foucault has played, both have acted and the pipe is subverted, meaning is ruined – a monumental violation.
Violation, 1937The Board paints a sign and paints a real affirmation; the beautiful landscape of sculpted Board public housing flats and green open field is interrupted by the monumental affirmation of authority and ownership – this is “state land”. But the state cannot merely affirm and it must also speak, it must also paint, unwittingly, a pronouncement of surreal negation: “no ball games”. When before, the interruptive sign blends into the landscape, making it the land the state’s, with the pronouncement of “no ball games”, we no longer see the land but a sign almost emptied of meanings. State land, the pronouncement of “no ball games” and the sign are all called into question. Are the words “state land” representing this existing land within the boundaries of the field, or all land that are open fields, or Singaporean land in general? Is the actual piece of land representing the state, so that we can point to the open field and say, “this is the state”? Or is it when there are no ball games, then the open field is state land, so that if there is one, it ceases to be? Or does the pronouncement refer to the fact that the state does not play ball games on land? Or does it point to the condition of no ball games as reflecting the presence of the state? Or does it lament the fact that there are no ball games on this state land, and thus invite us to have ball games? Or does it allow all games and activities as long as there is no ball involved?

The heartland footballers enact the intrusion of state speech in the Board’s sign, creating a tripling reference between the field, the sign and the ball game that breaks down the affirmation of the state land, short-circuiting the discourse making the sign meaningfully authoritative. Authority implodes, collapses inwards. What then? Perhaps then, there’ll be the freedom to make our own meaningful place from the spatial ruins of authority – the heartlander’s dream of freedom (while playing ball games). Thus, there is irony in the sign, for “no ball games” pronounces the violation of authority and thus opened up the field for ball games. State land is subverted, authority is ruined, community is enacted, and the beautiful game is played – a violating monument.
4 comments:
Your arguments of "or is it when there are no ball games..." remind me of the "No Eating and Drinking" signs on our public transport channels.
We're not to eat and drink on buses and trains. But could we eat OR drink then? I tend to do either one when absolutely necessary, and mentally prepare the argument for the authorities, if summoned. hilarious stuff.
jgpeiyi
dear sir, hmm...interesting that there's been an announcement in today's papers that ball games on 250-odd fields will now be allowed
I am sure the change in policy is due to the fact that most Singaporeans bo-chap the sign and use the fields, which has the consequence of undermining state authority (which was my point). The government technocrats know the rule is un-enforceable and so they cleverly turn it to their political advantage by 'allowing' the Singaporeans who are already using the fields to continue playing. About time, it is a nice gesture but changes nothing in reality except...
My prediction: (1) the management of the use of the fields will become more and more bureaucratic, (2) the SLA will start charging people for usage on some of the fields which they will equip with goalposts and what not, (3) the 'no ball gamers' will move on to fresh fields where the signs have not been removed.
There is just something about the sign which makes you want to play ball there.
dear sir, yeah fuckem i'm going to get meself a coupla kites and leave my strings all over the place when i'm done so that nobody can play ball games
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