DMZ

Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli's DMZ concerns a photojournalist who goes on assignment in Manhattan, otherwise known as the DMZ, during the second US civil war, a struggle between the United States of America and the Free States. Manhattan is the land between both armies, a no-go-out zone in which those who failed - or chose not - to vacate the island survive midst the bombing and political machinations of national conflict.

in fact, as a consequence of its in-between status, the DMZ, for all those who suffer sniper fire, is portrayed as a more likely place for an authentic community than either the United or Free States that surround it. the DMZ is beyond the pale but, it seems, none the worse for that. at the end of the second album the authors include a sort of guide book to the DMZ, an overview of places to eat, books to read and places to listen to music: 'Delancy's Kitchen: Delancey is an iffy street in terms of security, and that fucking subway entrance is right in front. Never queue up in front of this place if you can help it. If sniper's don't take shots at you from the bridge, the subway lunatics will. But this is one of the best places to see bands, so if you can get in safely, do it'.

the twenty pages that form the guide are, in many ways, a microcosm of the whole work, a distillation of its politics, its outlook and its aesthetic. not only do are we provided with a detailed portrayal of New York, with its eateries, immigrant diversity and monumental heritage, but we are provided with a vision of what that city would be in the midst of a divisive civil war. the key appears to be, however, that the DMZ itself is not particularly divided within itself. certainly there are suicide bombers and looters, but there is also a great deal of friendship, assistance and cosmopolitanism.

of course, one can't quite escape the sensation that Wood has tapped into a rather entrenched and long-lasting US tradition: the war to end all wars line. the work doesn't have any semblance of ultimate pacifism, but it does rely on the war as the instigator of the urban future. take Jamal's observation in his pop quiz that, speaking about his work restoring the walls along the Hudson River, 'This is the sort of work I dreamed about when I was young: designing and building something that'll make a real difference to my city. I wouldn't be doing this right now if the war hadn't happened, I bet'. The sentiment of Jamal's words are expressed by many of the characters in DMZ.

nevertheless, the urban world of the DMZ does indicate how the city of exception can quickly be transformed - or, indeed, is always co-existent with - the city in common, for the DMZ is as much a portrayal of everyday life as it is of life in the war zone.

ruins in the city

on the edge of miraflores, lima, heading towards san isidro is the Huaca Pucllana, a group of pre-Colombian ruins sitting nearby modern blocks of flats and the houses and schools of the peruvian well-off. the site, dating from 200-500AD, was a ceremonial site and is comprised of adobe bricks joined with a mud cement.

Huaca Pucllana is a fine example of the precarious relationship between the city and ruins. on the one hand, the site is what the city is not. the dry and dusty area creates a desert within the city, its difference exaggerated by the railings that form the perimeter and which place the Huaca beyond the pale. the ruins, a place to venerate, to protect, to unearth brick by brick as the city around it is being built upon brick by brick, are excluded from the city. on the other, however, the Huaca is a reminder of what the city was, what it will become and, thus, what is already is: a ruin.

the city can never exclude ruination, can never push the ruin beyond its boundaries for it is constantly decaying, whether at the hands of earthquakes or the planner's wrecking ball.

caresses

under the slogan of offering caresses, a band of health workers, sex workers, researchers and artists, among others, have been campaigning in lima to protest violence against women.

using a variety of strategies, including a blog, videos, poster campaigns and even a comic strip, "se ofrecen caricias" is a carnavalesque protest, an archetypal example of the way in which politics in art has been transformed into artistic politics.

the mapping of prostitution is also included, a means of reconfiguring the urban orientation of lima, and similar to another example of alternative mapping relating to the disappeared of the last Argentine dictatorship. referring to health centres, identity card offices, areas of crackdowns on prostitutes and transvestites (Plaza Manco Capac) and areas where sex workers trade, the map transforms lima into a space that revolves around sex work. as a consequence, the historic centre of the city, plaza de armas, the square that made lima the city of kings, is absent, lying beyond where the city is drawn - beyond the pale...