One’s face ... is a sacred thing, and the expressive order required to sustain it is a ritual thing.
— Erving Goffman
The face is the prow, that which leads into the world: this is a biological assertion of the thing-face, made by either Elias Cannetti or Rene Thom. Look it up.
Masks are arrested expressions and admirable echoes of feeling, at once faithful, discreet, and superlative. Living things in contact with the air must acquire a cuticle, and it is not urged against cuticles that they are not hearts; yet some philosophers seem to be angry with images for not being things [who might these philosophers be?], and with words for not being feelings. Words and images are like shells, no less integral parts of nature than are the substances they cover, but better addressed to the eye and more open to observation. I would not say that substances exist for the sake of appearances [Leibniz? Bergson?] or for the sake of masks, or the passions for the sake of poetry and virtue. Nothing arises in nature for the sake of anything else; all these phases and products are involved equally in the round of existence …
— George Santayana, in the epigraph to Erving Goffman's The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, 1956
[source: John W. Bennnet, Japan and the Allied Occupation 1948 – 1951: A Personal and Professional Memoir, Ohio State University]
Georges Demenÿ was a 19th century chromophotographer and gymnast who was fascinated by movement. He worked with Etienne-Jules Marey as his principal assistant. For a long time — since I made this little gif from the scanned images in the back pages of The New Library of Science and Invention, Communications* — I've thought perhaps he was trying to communicate with me from that time. I still can't understand what he is (sic) saying.
Face and threat. Between the white wall of the sign and the black hole of subjectification is face; the wall could be black and the hole could be white. What matters is the constitution of the assemblage called ‘face’.
Deleuze and Guattari in their feast of a treatise, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, have dedicated an entire section to the face.
I took the image above while wandering around the docks of Port Adelaide. In the first light of day the empty buildings seem alive in a ghostly kind of way. There's multilple pareidolia happening in this image — the wild hair of the dock worker whose face appears in the stain of the wall, the 'face' of the building itself, eyes, nose-mouth, and an unheimlich feeling that some one looks out at the trespasser looking up, pointing a camera to capture the scene.
I read of the name for seeing faces in surfaces—pareidolia—in Ben Lerner's 10:24, the e-book version, so I can't give you a page number. He uses the same wikipedia example that I'm going to use now.
The Face on Mars was one of the most striking and remarkable images taken during the Viking missions to the red planet. Unmistakably resembling a human face, the image caused many to hypothesize that it was the work of an extraterrestrial civilization. Later images revealed that it was a mundane feature rendered face-like by the angle of the Sun. (source: Wikipedia)
The photos were taken by none other than 'Viking 1, NASA' that would be the first viking that went to Mars.
Scrawled carelessly across the top of this mug shot is the name of the otherwise anonymous young woman. She looks afraid — she's obeying orders; 'Look left!' SNAP. Her cuticle is thin. What was her shame? We share a family name. I don't know her. She could have lived anywhere … white. Are we related? What do I look for in the face of this young woman whose name I share?
Je v ous ai me