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This chapter focuses on the work of Jean-Luc Godard during 1968, and examines his interest in the radical potential of a new alliance or cultural front involving cinema and other contemporary visual art forms. Godard's projects during this period – especially, his film maudit, One Plus One – are characterised by a series of investigations into, and subversions of, the conventions of the documentary, especially in relation to television journalism and news coverage, where an increasingly stylised form of reportage-realism articulated the mass media's antagonism towards the cause of the students, strikers, and activists.

This chapter discusses Hiroshi Teshigahara's documentaries, especially his 1985 film, Antonio Gaudí. The chapter examines how that film elucidates instances of convergence between documentary filmmaking and architecture. Although Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes (1964) secured his international reputation as a major figure of the Japanese New Wave, filmmaking only constituted one facet of his artistic activities, and he was – like his father, the head of the famed Sōgetsu School in Tokyo – an accomplished sculptor, ceramist, calligrapher, and landscape designer. In making a film devoted to Gaudí's work, the chapter argues that Teshigahara was not only exploring the curious affinity between Japanese ikebana (floral art) and Catalan moderisme, but he was also elaborating an aesthetics of documentary deeply influenced by other visual arts.

The first part of the chapter presents the members of the sixties generation, telling the story of their emergence onto the cultural scene in Egypt. It outlines the socio-economic and political context of which they were both a part and an expression. Who are these writers? When and how did they emerge? What is significant about their work? Why did they appear at such a critical moment in Egyptian history? What are the sources of literary and aesthetic inspiration? This chapter draws on an array of primary material from the journals of the time whose pages were filled with discussions about this emerging generation. This presentation of the sixties generation is undertaken with an attention to the broader context of the literary sphere in Egypt, what Bourdieu calls “the field of cultural production.” The second part of the chapter focuses on the theoretical arguments for the examination of space in literature, examining the broader “spatial turn” in the humanities and social sciences, engaging this approach within the context of modern and contemporary Egyptian literature. A focus upon spatial representations expands our analysis of the work of the sixties writers, bringing together the thematic, the aesthetic, and the political.

The book concludes with a discussion of the continued importance of this generation beyond the decade of the sixties. It traces the transformation of the sixties generation from an emerging group of writers to established members of the literary and cultural sphere in Egypt, who came to occupy positions of prominence in the field. It presents the career trajectories of the figures at the heart of this book including; the reception of their fiction; the conferral of awards; and the translation of their works. In doing so it also explores the impact of the sixties generation upon contemporary writers, particularly the nineties generation in Egypt. Despite the differences in political and ideological positions, the struggles of the writers of the sixties generation are not wholly divorced from those of their successors. Both were generations contending with the aftermath of revolutionary change, the realities of the failings of democratic projects, and the role of artists and intellectuals in confronting the injustices of the state. As the chapters of this book show, with the sixties generation came the disappearance of the idealised Egyptian nation in the novel. The works of their successors continue to grapple with its aftermath.

This chapter provides an overview of the international concrete poetry movement of the 1950s-70s, which frames the development of concrete poetry in England and Scotland. Concrete poetry first emerged in West Germany and Brazil in the early-to-mid 1950s, largely through the endeavours of Eugen Gomringer and the Noigandres poetry group. The earliest concrete poetry, defined in this text as ‘classical concrete’, was rooted in the aesthetics of constructivism, concrete art, modernist architecture, and literary modernism, as well as an interest in simplifying and clarifying language systems which was often connected to semiotics, especially information theory. A key impulse was the desire to develop transnational systems of linguistic communication, as the basis for post-war international dialogue. By the close of the 1960s, however, a different definition of concrete poetry, more connected to Dada, Futurism, and intermedia art, had taken hold worldwide. This variant of concrete was associated with the sixties counter-culture, and with a desire to tear down existing social institutions, expressed through non-linguistic or anti-linguistic impulses. To some extent this global narrative mirrors the story of concrete poetry’s development in England and Scotland, and can be traced by assessing the work of Finlay, Morgan, Houédard and Cobbing in turn.

The introduction situates the study within the existing international and national historiographies of the postwar period, the sixties and youth. It indicates the way in which the social category of youth will be used as a lens through which social change and modernization in the Republic of Ireland can be more clearly understood.

This study shows that in the post war era the political establishment had been slow to introduce economic and educational expansion, while high levels of youth emigration and rising participation rates in second level education reflected an evolution of expectations from below. It confirms the extensive continuities that prevailed in Irish society, in its politics and values in particular. Hierarchies of power were retained in many areas: middle class youths gained most from structural change; conservative values were slow to change as was the nature of social services; party politics remained as it was. The approach of this study encourages a broader focus when it comes to social change. Examining youth culture, as well as the interaction of religious and civic bodies with international models in youth work, reveals how studies of popular culture and civil society are key conduits in analyses of societal change. It also prevents easy assumptions about Ireland always lagging behind, catching up with or imitating its neighbours in the West. This was true in certain areas, but Irish governments, churches and civil society organisations were often engaged with forums where new ideas about the economy and social services were just being developed. International models would face adaptation of different kinds in different societies.

This chapter critically examines the notion of Canadian Indigenous youth leaving care by arguing that all forms of separation, including adoption, should be analyzed through the lens of ongoing colonization of Indigenous peoples. Several immediate and long-term practices are examined, some of which call for greater support for Indigenous ways of caring for children, urgent measures to address poverty in Indigenous communities, cultural planning for Indigenous children who are currently separated from their families and communities, and ways of supporting Indigenous youth in transition to adulthood who are looking to reconnect with their families, communities, and cultures.

American filmmakers have used the rich musical legacy of the 1960s to help frame, historicize, and market the “Celluloid Sixties,” the Sixties as imagined, interpreted, and invoked by filmmakers. This chapter considers how films from a politically pregnant subset, the “Sixties Postscript,” examine the meaning of the Sixties in the present. The most famous entry is The Big Chill (1983), which many scholars argue embodies Hollywood’s contempt for the Sixties and its embrace of Reaganism; it is an anomaly, not an archetype. Whereas The Big Chill cast the Sixties as a past that could be remembered, but not revived, Rude Awakening (1989), Flashback (1990), and Pump Up the Volume (1990) posited the Sixties as an endlessly renewable source of inspiration. These films do not use music simply to imbue nostalgia. They use nostalgia about the Sixties—its music, politics, and promise—to express discontent with the present and to promote the revival of the hopes and dreams associated with the Sixties.

This chapter explains how federally funded community organizing programs directed Williamsburg-Greenpoint residents' anger against the city government, allowing the neighborhood to evade the violent white racial backlash against the school busing that broke out in nearby Canarsie in 1972. Building on this mobilization and using War on Poverty funds, MYF social worker Jan Peterson worked closely with a group of Italian American women to open the neighborhood's first day care and senior citizens' center—Small World Day Care and the Swinging Sixties Senior Center. The two became a contentious project opposed by many male leaders in the neighborhood—one that drew women to join the National Congress of Neighborhood Women (NCNW), which Peterson founded in Brooklyn in 1974.

This chapter introduces this book’s central contention that Hollywood film and television have taught audiences that capitalism and the traditional family have triumphed over Sixties-era resistance to corporate culture, structural racism, and patriarchy. Hollywood’s fictionalized portrayals of late sixties dissent routinely depicts radical protesters as problems that must be overcome to preserve national unity and the nuclear family. This introduction explains how fictionalized portrayals of Sixties-era dissent are forms of public memory that offer lessons about appropriate models of civic engagement in late-capitalist democracy. These portrayals are forms of selective amnesia, public discourse that routinely omits events and issues that defy seamless narratives of national progress and unity. The last section of the introduction provides an overview of the book’s case study chapters which are organized by recurring narrative patterns and character types across different media products since the early eighties.

By the mid-nineteenth century, the aesthetics of the Victorian illustrated book were changing. The public desired artistic book illustration that could simulate the lifelike quality of photography. “Realism, Victorian Material Culture, and the Enduring Caricature Tradition” frames the realistic school of illustration, commonly referred to as the Sixties, with the Great Exhibition of 1851; this first ever world’s fair of culture and industry stimulated production of beautiful objects, including books with decorative bindings, culminating in a richly illustrated exhibition catalogue in a representational style (also referred to as realism or naturalism) in vogue from the 1850s–1870s. Foremost, this chapter examines how the creative vision of the caricaturists underpins the achievement of some Sixties artists, notably Fred Barnard and J. (James) Mahoney, who fleshed out inventive caricature designs to suit popular taste for the Household Edition of Dickens’s works. We witness this same kind of revision of the caricature tradition in Alice in Wonderland (1865). To appeal to middle-class consumers of the 1860s, John Tenniel refashioned Carroll’s caricature-style illustrations by adding domestic interiors and landscape details, realistically recreating Carroll’s social caricatures.

Chapter 4 considers the hip sensibility as it enjoyed its breakout success in the 1960s. While chapter 2 considers the early Cold War style of hip intellectualism—ironic, skeptical, literary, disaffiliative, and colored by the era's general dislike of the mass—chapter 4 describes how it changed within a mass counterculture. While the earlier generation sought a complicated reconciliation of meaning and sensory presence, the later one sought a purer presence in which meaning might dissolve altogether. This succession of moods within the hip sensibility registers on three exemplary pieces of music, each separated from the others by about a decade: Charlie Parker's “Ornithology,” Ken Nordine's “Sound Museum,” and Bob Dylan's “Ballad of a Thin Man.”