Thursday, April 23, 2015

Discussant comments on SAA session on subjectivation (Joyce)


Comments on "Archaeological Approaches to Subjectification" (Steve Kosiba, organizer). A symposium presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology, San Francisco, April 18, 2015

Rosemary A. Joyce

The papers in this session take up a significant topic. Or perhaps better said, topics: because the first thing we need to do when we, as archaeologists, want to think about "subjects" is to be sure we are talking about the same things.

A subject could be that which results from what Karen Barad (2007) calls the agential cut between subjects and objects, otherwise part of what she describes as phenomena that are "the ontological inseparability of agentially intra-acting 'components.'" I will return to Barad later.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

DRAFT of “Under the Volcano”: Complicated Causality and Volcanic Matter at San Pedro Aguacatepeque, Guatemala.

“Under the Volcano”: Complicated Causality and Volcanic Matter at San Pedro Aguacatepeque, Guatemala.
Guido Pezzarossi
Syracuse University

The site of San Pedro Aguacatepeque, a multicomponent Kaqchikel Maya community occupied from about 600 to 1814 CE, is located on the eastern flank of the Volcan de Fuego, one of the most active stratovolcanoes in the world. The relationship between this community (now an archaeological site) and the volcano it resides upon is critical to understanding the unique unfolding of history at the site, particularly after Spanish colonization, which is the focus of my research.
To ignore this relationship, and the various consequences that emerge from human/volcanic engagements, is to overlook a variety of agents –from the volcano itself to its ejecta to its resident spirits- all of which play(ed) important roles in structuring life and experience for the human inhabitants of San Pedro. Emerging new materialist approaches have helped me to develop an approach flexible enough to account for materialist AND constructivist theories in productive dissonance, leading to more complicated, thoroughly contingent, multi-stranded, non-linear and non-deterministic but hopefully more inclusive and thorough re-constructions of the unfolding of past events.
At issue in much of this, and of particular salience to archaeologies of colonial encounters, is the problematizing of agency and causality that emerges from the move beyond human-centric models that conflate agency and intentionality and situate the causal locus of historical unfolding solely within the purview and actions of human agents. In addition, care must be taken to avoid situating agency in analytical abstractions, such as Capitalism, which is frequently enlisted as some form of an actant in archaeological interpretations, a real “thing” that is/was internally coherent and contains its own set of internal logics and processes that are seen to exist outside of human practice and the “primary human [and nonhuman] actors” that play a part in carrying them out (Ho 2005; Mitchell 2002).
This paper moves from theory to a brief discussions of the case study at San Pedro, via the lens of the communities entanglement with the volcan de fuego, an entanglement that is “leaky,” both analytically and historically, and thus leads to other entanglements that played critical roles in maintaining and later untying the “knot” or “bundle” (Pauketat 2013?) of flows of which San Pedro was comprised.
The Problem of Agency
One of the main critiques leveled against materialist approaches, is the potential problems of going “back” to things. This move is argued to remove the focus on people and their agency and thus water down their responsibility for the violence of colonialism while downplaying the resilience of colonized populations. I think this critique misrepresents the goals of new materialism, which is not to take the focus away from people but in fact to better contextualize people in the past in the broader sets of relations –both social and material- that played important roles in shaping the outcomes of colonial entanglements.
At the root of this critique is the primacy given to human agents due to their sole claim to what Gell called “primary agency”, namely agency distinguished from the “secondary” agency of objects by the human intention and thus sentience, behind it (see Pauketat 2013). As Pauketat (2013:28) cautions, conflating intention, sentience and ”real” agency is highly problematic. Leaning on intentionality can entrap us in a modernist mindset rooted in Aristotle’s “hylomorphic model” of agency; a model that posits the rote transferal of form onto inert matter in direct accordance with the intentions of the human agent. In this model, to act becomes to act and do as one desires, regardless of the medium one is engaged with, such that a human acts and a thing is acted upon, in essence building a conceptual foundation on an problematic active/passive, nature/culture dichotomy.
As Timothy Mitchell (2002:10) points out, human intention and agency is distributed among a vast social/material field.  As one unravels these interwoven forces, human agency appears less as a calculating intelligence directing social outcomes and more as the product of a series of alliances in which the human element is never wholly in control.  In Ingold’s words: “As practitioners…the cook, the alchemist and the painter are in the business not so much of imposing form on matter as of bringing together diverse materials and combining and redirecting their flow in the anticipation of what might emerge” (Ingold 2008:15).
This perspective intersects with Andrew Martindale’s approach to colonialism as an always incomplete processes of entanglement and “tinkering” and that in the long run can help archaeology further break from essentialized active/passive models of both human/thing, and colonizer and colonized.
            In fact, a focus on things as dynamic assemblages, that are already living and doing as active participants in the unfolding of history holds interesting potential for archaeologies of colonial encounters, as I think this subtle re-framing can be extended to how we deal with the “agency” of colonial populations. Rather than searching out and artificially ascribing active agency and intentions to the colonized as exceptional moments punctuating an otherwise passive existence, I argue that opening up analyses to a consideration of the continual and expansive flows of agencies colonial populations jointly and continually navigated, more effectively situates all colonial populations as thoroughly embedded constrained participants in the emergence and constitution of the early modern world, and thus not as outsiders looking in or isolated entities existing in a state of suspended animation awaiting a dusting of agency through interpretation.
Problematizing Agency and Causality in the Archaeology of Colonialism
In colonial contexts, entanglement with materials can be analyzed through the disruptions and new productions that emerge from the introduction of new types of materials and things, as well as new forms of knowledge about ways to interact and work with existing things.  Micro-scale practices and the creative productions they entail conglomerate into the long-term processes observable in the archaeological record. By focusing on micro-scale negotiations with the material world we get at the creative improvisations of practice in the past that helps avoid falling into the potential determinism of structural approaches (see Hodder 2000; Martindale 2009), as well as monolithic model based approaches to history, such as histories /analyses of capitalism  (i.e. Capitalism; see Delanda 1996; Pezzarossi 2014).
At the micro scale, the non-linearity and emergent nature of systems and their matterings makes it impossible to “predict outcomes in advance or repeat an event…[as] terminal effects cannot be construed as possibilities that were already latent in some initial moment” (Coole and Frost 2011:14). Emphasis is placed on the contingencies of historical happenings for explaining outcomes or historical unfolding, rather than building models with which to explain in advance the causes and effects that played into the specific historical unfoldings explored archaeologically. This view of the past as made up of events emerging from the agency of “assemblages” and not only people may be seen as diluting blame or responsibility for past injustices. However Bennett (2010:37) via the analysis of the 2003 NE Blackout, has argued that while this approach may entail keeping people from being fully responsible for their actions, it necessarily expands out responsibility to all participants in a manner that all elements can be held accountable, rather than scapegoating or concentrating blame on actors whose actions/intentions were never fully in their control. This point intersects with theories of agency that critique conflations of agency with free will or intentions. The radical approach advocated by Bennett extends the critique of dualisms to ethics and moralism by problematizing the easy ascription of good/bad that holds sway in many interpretations of environmental disasters and policies and that I argue, is very much present in archaeological discourse of colonialism, capitalism and resistance.
The goal is to disperse the abstractions and dualisms that have clouded interpretations of the “details” of history in colonial and capitalist contexts by refocusing on the numerous engagements on the ground that constituted the practices and processes that have come to be abstracted into monolithic models and processes, such as Capitalism.
These engagements, however, were not solely between humans, and if we hope to tell the kinds of complicated and messy histories that better present the past as it was (and was experienced) analytical scope and methodology must expand to account for and explore the role of the nonhuman –broadly conceived- in the unfolding of history.  The following section seeks to reinterpret the impacts of colonization and capitalism in colonial Guatemala, and on the practices and experiences of San Pedro’s inhabitants as the effects of assemblages of human and nonhuman agents, bound together through unequal relations of power and the affordance/capacities of the things (both present and absent, material and conceptual) circulating through and containing the colonial milieu.
From Capitalism to Assemblages and Antimarket Effects
Rather than delving into an analysis of capitalism as an entity defined on the basis of one or another trait, I advocate moving beyond the baggage-laden concept of capitalism all together and turning analyses of capitalism “on their head” (see Wallerstein 1991). As DeLanda (1997, p. 48) argues: “the conceptual confusion engendered by all the different uses of the world “capitalism” (as “free enterprise” or as “industrial mode of production”…as world-economy”) is so entrenched that it…has reached the limits of its usefulness.” Instead, I draw on the materialist historical framework of Fernand Braudel and its recent new materialist interpretation by Manuel De Landa to approach capitalism not as a system or totality defined by free markets or other practices, but rather as the varied social and material consequences and effects of the operation of unfree “antimarkets”.
Antimarkets in this perspective are defined as power/violence manipulated market-based commerce and exchanges, counter to the “free” markets of neoliberal notions of capitalism. The point is not redefining capitalism as a totality whose essence is the antimarket, but rather dispersing the term all together and instead focusing on the tangible outcome of the assemblages of human and nonhuman actors, inhabiting topologies of unequal power sustained by violence, that we have come to know as capitalism.  In essence, what we know as capitalism is in fact an “effect” (see Coronil 2007; Pezzarossi forthcoming) of the operation of antimarkets, or “monopolies [that] were the product of power, cunning and intelligence” that exploited through “unequal or forced exchange(Wallerstein 1991, p. 356 emphasis added).
Volcanic Matter at San Pedro
Very briefly, at San Pedro as in other colonial period Maya sites, consumption of market acquired goods rapidly comes to dominate the ceramics used on a day to day basis in the early colonial period. Recently completed INAA-based diachronic ceramic sourcing study at San Pedro indicates a clear decline of locally produced ceramics at the community in the colonial period. The ceramic assemblage of precolonial occupations of the site (Classic and Postclassic) show upwards of 15% of recovered ceramics were likely made from locally available clay sources. The colonial assemblage on the other hand shows only 0.6% locally made ceramic artifacts, with the assemblage dominated by lead glazed jars, flat griddles or comales and polychrome decorated ceramics known to have been produced in Spanish potteries and in native potting communities across southern Guatemala and acquired at local and regional markets.
Explanations for such emerging market based consumption that grades into outright dependence, have recourse to look for the impact/influence of “capitalism”, as indeed market dependence for subsistence has been held up as the “differentia specifica of capitalism” (Brenner 2001; Wood 2002:50), emerging from dispossession of the means of production for subsistence. At San Pedro, a dual market dependence emerged, both for ceramic artifacts acquired at market AND as an outlet for the cash crops, mainly sugar, produced at the site explicitly for sale at market (Pezzarossi 2014).
This emerging dual market dependence, rather than simply being the inevitable outcome of capitalist incursion or the emplacement of capitalist relations onto Maya populations, emerged from the friction brought about by Spanish colonial policies, antimarkets and practices becoming entangled with existing Maya practices and responses to the constraints and emerging opportunities of the colonial and global economy and the material conditions, capacities and affordances of highland Maya social/material contexts.
Of these material conditions and nonhuman actants contributing to the emergence of market dependence, the Volcan de Fuego, literally, looms large, affecting Spanish colonial policies, the settlement and longevity of the site, climates, the presence of the community, and even the current composition of the archaeological site, covered as it is by high altitude coffee plantings that thrive in the environment built in part by volcanism.
First, volcanic activity dating to the at least 230 kya bp associated with the La Horqueta volcanic complex, of which Fuego is a part, in Pacific Piedmont Guatemala (SI Global Volcanism Program, accessed 2015) has created the landscape where San Pedro is located, rising dramatically from coastal elevations to 1200m and up to over 3000m at the summit of Fuego. Within this elevation rise, the deeply eroded passage of the Achiguate River that cuts between the Volcan de Fuego and the Volcan de Agua, its physical and mythological counterpart/Heroic Twin (Barrie-Sweets 2008). This passage provides a gradual, less costly path between coast and highlands that served and continues to serve as a critical access route across regions and ecological niches. In the colonial period, this pass served as an important trade route that funneled various entities through the notch between volcanoes: native porters, various merchants, forced migrants, repartimiento laborers, mules, carts (at times), and a variety of other things: cacao, cotton, fruits, seafood, sugar, wood, maize, ceramics, chickens and more.
In part, this flow of goods and people was afforded by the agriculturally rich, well drained sandy soil, regularly renewed by ash deposits from Fuego that mimicked the ash deposition of swidden agriculture practiced by Maya communities (see Barrie-Sweets 2008). And yet this same life giving ash also provided an ever present danger to the community and others situated to take advantage of its benefits, as San Pedro was destroyed by an eruption from Fuego in 1582. Excavations at San Pedro yielded sparse evidence of this eruption, as a very thin lens of fine sand/ash was identified between colonial deposits at the site, possibly correlated to this event (Pezzarossi 2014). No evidence of pyroclastic flows or other more dramatic impacts to the site were identified, hinting at a less intense ash deposition that may have collapsed roofs and killed crops (Escobar Wolf Personal Communication, 2012), as happens from time to time at the current functioning coffee plantation within which San Pedro is located
The assemblage that the soils comprised were complemented by a unique microclimate, itself a product of the towering volcanoes that contain and produce it via the rapid rise of Pacific coastal clouds that precipitate regularly and intensely on the southern portions of the Volcan de Fuego, and within the valley created by Fuego and Agua. GIS based agrosuitability analyses have identified the region where San Pedro is located as suitable for the cultivation of much prized cacao, due to the increased precipitation and warmer temperatures despite the high altitude of the site at 1200m asl. Volcano influenced climate, coupled with well drained volcanic soils, rich as they were, provided an especially fertile assemblage for cultivation of cacao that came to define San Pedro’s practice prior to colonization (as it served as a cacao growing outpost for highland Kaqchikel Maya communities) and afforded the continued cultivation of cacao and new cultivation of sugar cane, another heat/moisture amenable cash crop, after colonization (while affording the continued lucrative exploitation of the communities labor and craft by colonial officials).
As I’ve detailed elsewhere, including a session earlier today, San Pedro’s shift to sugar production, and abandonment of cacao production, was multiply influenced, from the affordances of the community’s ecological setting, to the historically influenced agricultural crafting practices they were so familiar with as a cacao growing outpost that predisposed them to embrace a new, introduced cash crop, to the biological needs of cacao –a delicate tree, with long-delayed (5 years) returns on initial planting that requires continual tending, weeding, shading, and maintenance. Labor shortages in coastal and piedmont cacao growing regions, catalyzed by the greater abundance of disease vectors in the hot humid region where cacao thrived, impacted the viability and productivity of cacao groves. Colonial policies, informed by humeral medicine frameworks, sought to restrict population migration across the climatic zones created –in part- by the mass of the Volcan de Fuego and Agua. Movement across climates was perceived as a danger to the health of migrants, and may have further slowed much needed migrations of laborers to the coast and Piedmont.
Moreover, Spanish colonial labor and tribute policies –requested in kind, in currency and in labor- also played a role in pushing San Pedro to embrace more intensive and quicker yielding cash crop cultivation of sugar and sugar products explicitly for sale at market, as a way of meeting onerous tribute and tax demands and getting out of laboring in far flung locations, to the detriment of local subsistence, agricultural and craft practices. In turn, this combination of factors, many centered on the volcanoes, contributed the transformation of practice at San Pedro and the emergence of the dual market dependence described previously.
The Immaterial Material: The Ghost in the Volcano
Finally, the presence of a spirit within the volcano provides an additional consideration of the variety of roles the volcano and the various entities it spawned played. Yet it does so from a decidedly immaterial materialiaty, providing us with an case study in how the absent (Fowles 2013?) or immaterial and spiritual (Espiritu Santo, and X) can play a critical and acknowledged role in community histories and their variable unfoldings in very stark material terms.
Coole and Frost (2011:10) argue that in the new materialism’s “multiply tiered ontology, there is no definitive break between sentient and nonsentient entities, or between material and spiritual phenomena.” This last point of emphasis, between material and spiritual phenomena, is an exciting element of new materialist approaches that drops out to a degree in more rigid object oriented ontologies (OOO)’s that fixate on objects as entities to be dealt with as discrete “units” (see Bogost; Whitmore 2014), rather than as assemblages and things broadly conceived as entangled knots of disparate material/social flows, in the process of becoming (see Braidotti…Joyce…Ingold…De Landa). Donna Haraway brings this into dramatic relief by stating: “No objects, spaces, or bodies are sacred in themselves; any component can be interfaced with any other if the proper standard, the proper code, can be constructed for processing signals in a common language” (Haraway 1989: 187).
In this light, a focus on objects, as “real” things, rather than the flows that precede/construct them variously (cf. Whitmore 2014), serves to mark objects/things as sacred, to be understood as symmetrical participants to human action, yet as discrete entities, frozen/changed flows that make them analyzable on their own without recourse to their inherent instability, assembled nature and subsequent vibrancy resulting from the interacting “parts” of the assemblage that can construct them one second and leak through or assemble elsewhere with other parts the next.
A passage from the Kaqchikel Chronicles, a late 16th-early 17th century Kaqchikel manuscript detailing origin stories and history, indicates that the economically crucial path between the Volcan de Agua and the Volcan de Fuego was guarded by Saqik’oxol, the “spirit” of the Volcan de Fuego who resided within the volcano. This spirit was encountered by the ancestors of the Kaqchikel as they spread out across the landscape after their exodus from Tulan, a place that came to serve as a mythical origin place for highland Maya people.
From this story, the Heart of the Hill, a spirit, lived within the volcano, in close proximity to the known location of San Pedro. As Bassie-Sweet (2008) argues, volcanoes, and specifically the Volcan de Fuego (through analysis of the above cited passage) existed as powerful gateways between planes of existence for highland Maya (Kiche and Kaqchikel, people and were known to contain “sacred fire and lightning”, two life giving/producing elements in Maya cosmologies.
Perhaps the nearness to this spirit and its power may have directly influenced the long occupation of San Pedro, adding an additional material, yet immaterial force playing a part in the communities history, in conjunction with the potential influence of the climatic and defensible properties of the community’s location, and the life giving (and taking) ash of eruptions (Robinson and Pezzarossi 2013).
Conclusions

All together, these disparate elements comprise the varied and dynamic assemblage that saw the community of San Pedro emerge and persist over almost 1000 years in a deeply entangled relationship with the volcano and its various offerings. New Materialist approaches provide a framework for remaining attuned to such diversity of actants and taking them seriously; from colonial policies, to ash enriched soil to present spirits with the ability to influence and disrupt human and nonhuman collaborations and vibrancies. Casting such a wide net provides great returns, if in the form of more inclusive, messy histories of complicated causality and unintended consequences within and outside human purview and interventions, to great effect on the archaeological reconstruction of historical unfoldings. 

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Guido Pezzarossi—“Under the Volcano”: Assemblages, Causality and Volcanic Matter at San Pedro Aguacatepeque, Guatemala

The colonial Maya community of San Pedro Aguacatepeque, located in Pacific piedmont Guatemala, sits on the eastern flank of the Volcan de Fuego, a long-active stratovolcano. The interventions of new materialist approaches, in particular Bennett’s notion of the “vibrancy” and influence of nonhumans in the unfolding of history, are brought into relief when considering the abundant historical entanglements between the Volcan de Fuego and Aguacatepeque. The regular flows and bursts emanating from the Volcan afforded much (productive and destructive) for Maya populations drawn to settle at Aguacatepeque. The continual eruptions of the Volcan contributed to the emergence of a unique corridor linking coast and highlands, and a high altitude microclimate and well-drained soils amenable to cacao cultivation. In turn, the Volcan continued to play a critical role in structuring life and practice at Agucatepeque. The influence of the Volcan and other nonhuman entities in the affairs of Aguacatepeque provides a compelling case for expanding attributions of historical causality at the community beyond humans. This paper focuses on the Volcan de Fuego, its capacities, and its place within the assemblage of human and nonhuman actors and emergent effects that afforded Aguacatepeque’s unique historical trajectory both before and after colonization.

Andrew Bauer—The Archaeological Climate: New Materialisms and Ontologies of the Anthropocene

 Archaeologists have long documented how humans have historically responded to climate changes. With broad scholarly debate over the adoption of the “Anthropocene” to describe the current period of Earth history, they are also contributing to evaluations of how land-use practices historically influenced Earth’s climate, arguably since at least the mid-Holocene. While archaeological approaches to past climate changes have much to contribute to the Anthropocene debate, they often uncritically leave intact modernist ontological binaries of nature and society that are foundational to most historiographic framings of the Anthropocene. In one case, society responds to a recalcitrant Nature; in the other, it produces it. In this paper, I explore how new materialisms further push archaeology to reconceptualize human-environment interactions by accounting for the “vitality” (sensu Bennett 2010) of nonhumans in helping to constitute environmental conditions and social collectives. How, for example, do the temporal boundaries of the Anthropocene and notions of historical agency and determinacy change if one shows that nonhuman environmental constituents have always been entangled in human actions and rarely guaranteed to be in full conformity with human desire, design, or intention? I address this and related questions through several archaeological case studies, including mid-Holocene socio-environmental transformations in South India.

Jamie Arjona—Things that Queer: Disorienting Intimacies in Late Nineteenth Century Jooks

This paper examines late nineteenth and early twentieth century jook joints as sites that generated queer African-American intimacies and animacies. Emerging in the 1880s throughout much of the rural United States, jook joints crafted a performatively queer medium within African-American communities. Particularly in the rural south, these jooks offered a haven for black music, dance, gambling, prostitution, and alcohol consumption that disoriented expectations of temperance and frugality. Drawing from affect theory, queer theory and ontological approaches to materiality, I attempt to understand how jook atmospheres generated intimate connections between people and things that were, in turn, condemned by a host of black leaders. The animate assemblage of performers and materials that once resided in these rural spaces contested models of reproductive futurity and craft a focal point for understanding affective disillusionment captured in material attachments.

Lisa Johnson et al.—‘Limestone Bars’ as Power Objects among the Ancient Maya: A Consideration of Objects as Active Participants in Ritual Practice

This paper considers how people and things come together in a ritual setting and attempts to break down the division between the human participants and the materials engaged. Using contemporary perspectives surrounding post-Marxian materialism, it is argued that archaeology has the means to explore the ways in which materials exhibit their active nature in particular contexts. With this in mind, this study will reassess small bar-shaped limestone artifacts that have been recovered from numerous archaeological contexts throughout the Lowland Maya area of Belize, Guatemala, and Mexico. A consideration of general size, shape and treatment suggests that these objects may have been tools and that their role in ritual practice transformed them into an active participant. Understanding that things can be active when articulated in an assemblage of social relations, enables scholars to disentangle subjective assumptions of value and meaning. In this case, it enables one to argue that a seemingly “ordinary” bar of limestone, an abundant resource in the Maya area, was seen as an object of power through its participation in ritual.

Christopher Watts—Mutable Materials and Gathering Worlds

Owing to a plethora of recent and ever more divergent scholarship on materiality, the lens through which we view the ontological status of things has become increasingly opaque. New thinking about the ways in which materials are always and already in flux compels us to consider how seemingly obdurate things can, paradoxically, transcend their own solidity. To this we may add a budding concern with the immaterial – regimes of light and sound, for example, and their mutability – and the extent to which such phenomena imbue and inform wider material meshworks. In this paper, I think through these themes with reference to the earthen enclosures of the central Great Lakes, which I argue were intended to gather together particular topographies, celestial objects, and materials as part of a broader commitment to place.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Slow Thinking: Beyond the Entangled List (draft)

Slow Thinking: Beyond the Entangled List
Noa Corcoran-Tadd
Department of Anthropology, Harvard University

Here I explore the notion of ‘slow thinking’ that underlies a number of the New Materialist interventions, and then look at some of the implications through a case study on colonial labor and infrastructure in the Andean highlands.

In an era of ‘frictionless’ digital interactions and the ‘annihilation’ of time and space, New Materialist authors have expressed particular concern for the ways the simplification of the world into smooth surfaces allowing us to slide quickly into either social construction or uncritical naturalism.  New Materialists and others argue that these surfaces (or ‘black boxes’ in the Latourian language) conceal the highly complex topologies and unstable assemblages of a world fundamentally unsuited to reduction. 

Slow thinking and the list
The list of heterogeneous things stands as an important trope in the New Materialisms literature.  In her influential discussion of the 2003 blackout (2009: 25), Jane Bennett introduces:
“coal, sweat, electromagnetic fields, computer programs, electron streams, profit motives, heat, lifestyles, nuclear fuel, plastic, fantasies of mastery, static, legislation, water, economic theory, wire, and wood”
Karen Barad (2007: 360) similarly draws up a list around the phenomenon of quantum computing:
STM microscopes and practices of microscopy, the history of microscopy, scientific and technological advances made possible by STM, the quantum theory of tunneling, material sciences, IBM’s corporate resources and research and development practices, scientific curiosity and imagination, scientific and cultural hopes for the manipulability of individual atoms, Feynman’s dream of nanotechnologies, cultural iconography, capitalist modes of producing desires, advertising, the production and public recognition of corporate logos, the history of the atom, the assumption of metaphysical individualism, complex sets of visualizing and reading practices that make such images intelligible as pictures of words and things, and the intertwined histories of representationalism and scientific practice.”
The juxtaposition of heterogeneous elements through these lists serves to highlight both an excessive multiplicity of actors/actants/materials and an openness in the networks that constitute the phenomenon under consideration.  Established domains of description and explanation (e.g. technology of the grid, economics of the grid, cultural representations of the grid) are violated by the deliberate conjoining of dreams, theories, materials, techniques, and histories.  The phenomenon is no longer easily single, portable and smoothly articulated; the excess of potential connections forces us to take stock, slow down, and perhaps most crucially, attend to the many elements usually left out.

Representing heterogeneity
                  Less apparent in these lists (but no less important) is an attention to heterogeneous, lively relationships between the constituent materials.  As Barad argues, our analyses need to move beyond the simple acknowledgement of materiality and actively engage with frictions of material intra-actions.   It is at this point – the next step beyond the list  – that the problem of adequate representation comes to the fore.  One approach has been visual, with Barad, for instance, providing a vision of the complex topologies constituting quantum physics (2007: 389). 
                  It is worth pausing here for a comparison with a longer history of apparently similar diagramming in archaeology.  David Clarke (1968) provides a classic systems theory view of a coherent cultural system constituted by internal subsystems and their relationship to an external environment.  LaMotta and Schiffer (2001) refocus on the behavioral system, enabling them to avoid the second-level abstraction of ‘culture’. Explicitly acknowledging the influence of the behavioral archaeologists, Ian Hodder (2012) has developed the tanglegram that focuses on tracing the circulations and transformations of materials at a single site (and further decenters the human emphasis on ‘behavior’).  And, drawing on complexity research, James McGlade (2006) introduces a socioeconomic topology, which introduces possibilities of structural change over time absent in the other diagrams.
                  This brief review raises the important (if well-known) question of how we chose the levels of scale and complexity in our models.  Barad’s diagram, however, seems to point in a different direction by highlighting the inadequacies of representation (389).  As she herself emphasizes, she struggles to convey the dynamic, multiscalar, and relational qualities of the phenomenon at hand. 

Projects of critique, projects of production
With this stress on the difficulties in truly accounting for things in all of their relational complexity, is the key result that are we left with Adorno’s sense of the negative, that which is left beyond representation (Bennett)?  Or Latour’s more optimistic view that while “we still don’t know how to assemble, in a single, visually coherent space, all the entities necessary for a thing to become an object…[w]hen we have learned how to do that, we might finally get our (material) materialism back” (2007: 142)?
                  Is the turn to New Materialism a question of developing entirely new ontologies (as some of the manifesto-like interventions might suggest) or guiding strategic interventions (as implied by many of case studies)?  Does New Materialism seek to replace or simply destabilize flawed concepts and methods?

                  One of the striking approaches of the New Materialists has been the revisiting of previous perspectives their disciplinary genealogies that ‘lost out’ in the march of mainstream Occidental thought (Barad with Bohr, Bennett with Spinoza, Latour with Tarde).  Looking back at our own genealogy (as hinted already with the diagrams), it is worth considering whether we are, perhaps, closer than other disciplines to already developing a New Materialist perspective. 
                  Certainly our locations within anthropology and the frequent invocation of anthropocentric language might suggest otherwise.  But perhaps archaeology is, to some extent, already a ‘slow’ discipline, a field of strikingly heterogeneous qualities in which it is easier to see the work of tracing, connecting, and purification in action. 
                  Goldstein and Macphail’s textbook discussion of medieval European dark earths (2006: 271-272) serves as an instructive example in this regard.  While interest is expressed in categorizing soil as ‘material culture’ and parsing out the ‘natural’ and ‘cultural’ contributions to geoarchaeological features, these distinctions often fade within the concrete detail of the examples.  In the case of dark earths, Goldstein and Macphail trace the emergence of this particular soil type through the intractions of decomposing building materials, vegetation growth, the deposition of midden materials, and the calcite products of earthworm activity.   While they attempt to isolate the anthropogenic, the careful analyses of thin sections reveal the more-than-human status of this assemblage in the making – sometimes involving the actions of humans, at other times through the autonomous dynamism of the many other bodies at work.

                  Are the problems that the New Materialisms seek to address salient for archaeologists as well?  Perhaps, although as I’ve suggested so far, we may be further along than we think given the ways that our practices (if not always our explicit theoretical orientations) often already speak to New Materialist concerns with the liveliness of the material and the complex relational qualities of assemblages.
                  Barad’s intervention does raise the question of how we represent our work – perhaps we are victims of a well-developed methodology in the absence of an adequate approach to representation and its pitfalls?  An engagement with the New Materialisms may also prove to be particularly useful as a new lingua franca with which to speak to others increasingly engaged with these slower approaches to the socionatural world.

Tacna and the ruta de la plata
                  Like the neighboring valleys of the Osmore, Azapa and Lluta drainages, the Caplina valley in Tacna forms an important transport corridor between the Pacific coast and the Bolivian altiplano.  I have been developing a research project looking at the history of movement along this route, with a focus on the area of transition between coastal and altiplano topographies - here altitude increases by 3500m over a transect of 30km.  While preliminary evidence suggests substantial movement over the long-term (i.e. before the Inka expansion), the Inka and colonial period investment in roads and roadside way stations (tambos) indicate an intensification and formalization of traffic.  Particularly with the 16th and 17th-century rise of silver boom cities of Porco, Potosi, and La Plata in the altiplano, valleys like this become vital lifelines to the coast as part of the ruta de la plata (silver road).
                 
                  What would an account of this route look like if done ‘quickly’ (as a historian might)?  In many cases, these roads are taken as examples that fit within already existing narratives connecting notions of ‘the colonial’, ‘the economic’, and ‘globalization’.  Here almost all focus is placed on a single material moving through the empty, abstract spaces of the rural from the mining cities of the altiplano to the port cities of the Pacific.  A social historian might add considerable nuance based on written accounts of contested labor relations and changing social identities of some of the actors along the route.
                  However, the implied ontologies of these accounts remain very simple, with universal (human) bodies moving in an abstract space and all set in motion by a set of conventional black boxes.  The material is often only salient here as a commodity - indeed, the denomination of the ‘ruta de la plata’ is an instructive reduction of the route to a single material.

                  While sluggishly conducting pedestrian survey at altitudes of up to 4500m, my approach has begun to move in a rather different direction.  Slowing down the analysis by beginning with the high-altitude landscape itself, we soon begin to work with a much more inclusive list that extends far beyond silver as commodity.  We may move beyond the human actors to consider the profusion of animals involved (mules, horses, llamas).  We may move off the road to explore the many paths that both precede and continue to parallel the more formalized routes.  We may begin to rethink the built form of the tambos, with their extensive adobe courtyards and corrals, in terms of their numerous nonhuman inhabitants.  Here we may begin to see some of the dangers in replicating certain hierarchies of concern through archaeological (and historical) practice, where indigenous labor is eclipsed by discussions of discussions of Spanish enterprise, and the role of animals is even less visible.

Out of the field and into the archive
                  In light of this listed profusion of excluded things, I’m particularly interested in recasting movement and inhabitation along this route as: a) a fundamentally multispecies phenomenon, b) crosscut by the differential effects of the high-altitude environment, and c) entangled with (but not determined by) hierarchies of bodily difference.  
                  While many other elements were also in play – unstable roads and bridges in a dynamic, high-altitude landscape, the effective reach of the state, shifting notions of mita labor mobilization, urban desires for wine, silk, and the latest novels, regional shifts from subsistence to fodder crops – I’d like to focus on the conjunction of human and animal labor (cf. Braverman (1974) and Benton (1993) for the orthodox and ecological positions, respectively).
                  Human and animal porters were fundamental components of transportation networks in the Andean highlands.  While wheeled vehicles proliferated on the coast, topographic extremes in the highlands encouraged the persistence of portage regimes throughout the colonial period.   These regimes were both hybrid and contested. 
                  Rather than following the standard actors of social history, it is vital to consider that ways that humans, mules, and camelids were organized and exploited in combination, in configurations that were frequently the subject of legal and extralegal negotiation.  In these disputed projects of labor substitution, the relative roles of travellers and local communities, Indians and Africans, mules and llamas were all in flux.                   
                  José de Acosta (1590) provides a striking account of the “mortal anguish” of soroche (altitude sickness) while crossing the Andes, while Ephraim George Squier (1877) documents the similarly brutal toll on mules. Yet the roles of adaptations (both short-and long-term) to high altitude are surprisingly little discussed by archaeologists and historians of the colonial period.  Historically, the Andes have been the site of reductive explanatory frameworks that seek deterministic relationships to race and/or the environment – the challenge here is to build an adequate account for bodily differences and environmental extremes in the Andes without falling back on either social constructivist or deterministic naturalist positions.    
                  Returning to the colonial archive, one encounters repeated legal disputes over transport regimes that make frequent and explicit reference to the qualities of different human and nonhuman laborers with regard to their capacities for work and reproduction at high altitude.  While these disputes were frequently couched within highly problematic discourses of proto-racial and species difference, I hesitate to understand these as purely issues of cultural discourse.           
                  Instead, I’d like to consider how certain capacities were mobilized and made meaningful within a process of colonizing local bodies (indigenous people and camelids) and importing foreign bodies (African, Spanish, equids).  And rather than taking these capacities as essential, it would seem vital to explore the ways they emerged over multiple timescales (short-term adaptation, long-term selective pressures) and the ways in which these capacities were made to matter (or not) under specific regimes of transport labor both as sources of resilience and targets of exploitation.  Drawing on Susan DeFrance’s (2010) zooarchaeological work, an important inspiration for this paper, this is something I hope to examine in upcoming analyses of tambo contexts.  
                  Furthermore, as Braun and Whatmore (2010) have argued, we have to consider zoe within its context of techné.  The affordances of the extreme Andean landscape could be changed through the construction and maintenance of infrastructures like roads, tambos, and bridges.  In this sense, the development and care for infrastructure joins an irreducible list of things (topography, animals, humans, loads, timetables, regulations) shaping the precarity of life on the move in the colonial Andes.   

Back to the field
                  I’d like to make four final points by way of conclusion.  First, although emphasis is often placed on that which is compressed and lost in the time averaged archaeological record, I’ve argued that archaeology’s methodologies lend themselves particularly well to the notion of slow analysis and the careful tracing across domains. 
                  Second, the representation of slow analyses remains an important topic for further discussion.   As the conjunction of the Barad and Hodder graphs suggests, there are important questions to consider concerning the injection of complexity into our representational strategies.
                  Third, while still arguing for the productive possibilities of transgressing the domains of the social, the animal, the technological, and the geological, this paper has made an implicit case for what might be termed the political economy strand of the New Materialisms (Braun and Whatmore 2010, Edwards 2010, Barad 2009).
                  The colonial period remains a highly sensitive topic in the Andes and the account developed within a New Materialisms perspective may seem problematic for several reasons.  The account tends to widen the number of actors that matter (when compared with the attractive reductions of other narratives).  In exploring the issue of human and animal labor, this version of things also seeks to account for kinds of bodily differences in practice in ways that avoids reducing these to ‘mere’ discursive production.

                  However, as argued at the beginning, this slower approach to analysis helps move the discussion beyond the black-boxed causal forces of ‘capital’, ‘colonial logic’, or ‘European worldview’ and provide a clearer accounting for the complexities of precarious life and death on the road.