@inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Film as Cultural Practice}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-12}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-12}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @book{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Film, Form, and Culture}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Formal Structures}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-3}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-3}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Global Cinema}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-9}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-9}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Image and Reality}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-2}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-2}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={Introduction}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-1}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-1}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Building Blocks of Film I}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-4}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-4}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Building Blocks of Film II}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-5}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-5}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Stories Told by Film I}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-10}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-10}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Stories Told by Film II}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-11}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-11}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Storytellers of Film I}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-6}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-6}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Storytellers of Film II}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-7}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-7}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @inbook{kolker_gordon_2024, title={The Storytellers of Film III}, url={https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003398875-8}, DOI={10.4324/9781003398875-8}, author={Kolker, Robert P. and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2024}, month={Feb} }
 @book{gordon_2023, place={Oakland, CA}, title={Becoming the Ex-Wife: The Unconventional Life and Forgotten Writings of Ursula Parrott}, ISBN={9780520391543 9780520391550}, publisher={University of California Press}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2023} }
 @article{gordon_archer_everett_johnson_2022, title={Gauging Film History: An Exquisite Corpse}, volume={63}, number={1}, journal={Framework: The Journal of Cinema and Media}, author={Gordon, M. and Archer, Ina and Everett, Dino and Johnson, Martin Louis}, year={2022}, pages={126–130} }
 @inbook{gordon_2022, place={NY}, title={Madge Tyrone}, booktitle={Women Film Pioneers Project}, publisher={Columbia University Libraries}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Gaines, Jane and Vatsal, Radha and Dall’Asta, MonicaEditors}, year={2022}, month={Sep} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={Making Concessions: A Tale of Capitalism, Control, and Snacks}, url={https://pipewrenchmag.com/making-concessions-movies-and-popcorn/}, number={5}, journal={Pipewrench}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2022} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={Reflections on the Decision to Teach Darnella Frazier’s Cellphone Video of the Murder of George Floyd, and on Changing My Mind}, url={https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/idx/j/jcms/18261332.0061.902/--reflections-on-the-decision-to-teach-darnella-fraziers?rgn=main;view=fulltext}, journal={Journal of Cinema and Media Studies (JCMS)}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2022} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={The Stories We Tell: Contemporary Film and Media: Plots in the Coronavirus Age}, url={https://doi.org/10.52750/503800}, DOI={10.52750/503800}, abstractNote={What will COVID-inspired movies be like? Will they focus on our time spent in isolation? On imagining what it will be like to get “back to normal”? On scientists collaborating around the globe as they try to create a vaccine? On protestors who insist on getting haircuts or entering a restaurant without a mask on before it is safe to do so? On politicians either scapegoating or taking responsibility for what happens to the citizens who inhabit the nations they lead? On frontline ER doctors or ambulance drivers risking their lives to treat critically ill people? It’s too early to know exactly how fictional movies will tell the story of this pandemic, but there have already been attempts to both document and propagandize the virus. This session will conclude with a brief discussion of Plandemic, a short conspiracy theory video that had over 8 million views just over a week after it was pushed out over YouTube, Facebook, and Vimeo on May 4. Critical thinking and viewing skills have always been important, and disinformation has always been risky, but in our present times it is incumbent on all of us to be smart about how we consume information and understand what we are being told and by whom, as will certainly be the case in the film and media we continue to encounter about this virus and its impacts.}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2022}, month={Jun} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={The Stories We Tell: Infectious Disease and Film History}, url={https://doi.org/10.52750/480504}, DOI={10.52750/480504}, abstractNote={Tuberculosis may seem like a disease of the past (thanks to a highly successful global campaign to eradicate it), but it is especially relevant to COVID-times in terms of the way it is spread.One of the films I want to talk about was made for entertainment.Falling Leaves, directed by one of the pioneers of early cinema, Alice Guy Blaché, is a melodrama, featuring an adorable little girl who wants to save her ailing sister from TB and in the process ends up finding her both a doctor and, as it turns out, a likely future husband.The other film, The Temple of Moloch, was made by the Edison Manufacturing Company in collaboration with the National Association for the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis in an effort aligned with the agency's annual Christmas Seal fundraising campaign.Germ theory was a relatively new way of understanding disease in 1914, and this film uses this idea to tell a story about disease's ability to impact both the poor and the rich.Both of these films rely on disease for their stories, but one deals with it purely for the sake of drama and the other primarily with the aim of educating and improving the health of the viewing public.}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2022}, month={Jun} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={You Can’t Say They Didn’t Try: Environmentally Conscious Documentaries — Part 1}, volume={1}, url={https://doi.org/10.52750/158950}, DOI={10.52750/158950}, abstractNote={In this video (Part 1 of 2) Marsha Gordon, Ph.D. explores the way documentary films targeted at young people — one each from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1970s — have for decades tried to help us to comprehend what failure to prevent catastrophic climate change might mean for us. Â}, publisher={North Carolina State University}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2022}, month={Jan} }
 @article{gordon_2022, title={You Can’t Say They Didn’t Try: Environmentally Conscious Documentaries — Part 2}, volume={1}, url={https://doi.org/10.52750/894475}, DOI={10.52750/894475}, abstractNote={n this video (Part 2 of 2) Marsha Gordon, Ph.D. explores the way documentary films targeted at young people -one each from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1970s -have for decades tried to help us to comprehend what failure to prevent catastrophic climate change might mean for us.}, publisher={North Carolina State University}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2022}, month={Jan} }
 @article{gordon_everett_2021, title={Dusting Off that Old Projector: Preservation through Projection}, volume={84}, ISSN={0360-9081}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.17723/0360-9081-84.1.139}, DOI={10.17723/0360-9081-84.1.139}, abstractNote={ABSTRACT}, number={1}, journal={The American Archivist}, publisher={Society of American Archivists}, author={Gordon, Marsha and Everett, Dino}, year={2021}, month={Mar}, pages={139–164} }
 @misc{gordon_2021, title={Face-to-Face Teaching During the COVID-19 Pandemic: Some Practical Advice for Fall Classes}, url={https://delta.ncsu.edu/news/2021/08/20/face-to-face-teaching-during-the-covid-19-pandemic-some-practical-advice-for-fall-classes/}, journal={DELTA News}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2021}, month={Aug} }
 @article{gordon_2021, title={Going to the Show Again}, url={https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/going-to-the-show-again/}, number={31}, journal={LA Review of Books quarterly}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2021} }
 @article{gordon_field_2021, title={Seeing Life Through a Different Lens}, volume={31}, number={3}, journal={Sight + Sound}, author={Gordon, M. and Field, Allyson Nadia}, year={2021}, month={Apr}, pages={19–21} }
 @article{gordon_2021, place={Salon}, title={The subversive joys of Joan Micklin Silver's little-known New York City short films}, url={https://www.salon.com/2021/03/13/joan-micklin-silver-short-films-fur-coat-club-elevator-duck/}, journal={Salon}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2021}, month={Mar} }
 @article{gordon_grimm_2020, title={‘Lights, Camera-maids, Action!’: Women Behind the Lens in Early Cinema}, url={https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/lights-camera-maids-action-women-behind-the-lens-in-early-cinema/}, journal={Los Angeles Review of Books}, author={Gordon, M. and Grimm, Charles "Buckey"}, year={2020}, month={Jan} }
 @article{gordon_2019, title={Creative Encounters with Film History: Thomas Edison Then/Now}, volume={5}, number={2}, journal={Journal of Cinema and Media Studies}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2019} }
 @misc{parsons_gordon_2019, title={On the history (and future) of art documentaries and the film program at the National Gallery of Art}, ISBN={9781315123301}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.4324/9781315123301-14}, DOI={10.4324/9781315123301-14}, journal={Documenting The Visual Arts}, publisher={Routledge}, author={Parsons, Margaret and Gordon, Marsha}, year={2019}, month={Dec}, pages={205–220} }
 @book{field_gordon_2019, title={Screening Race in American Nontheatrical Film}, ISBN={9781478005605}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1215/9781478005605}, DOI={10.1215/9781478005605}, abstractNote={Although overlooked by most narratives of American cinema history, films made for purposes outside of theatrical entertainment dominated twentieth-century motion picture production. This volume adds to the growing study of nontheatrical films by focusing on the ways filmmakers developed and audiences encountered ideas about race, identity, politics, and community outside the borders of theatrical cinema. The contributors to Screening Race in American Nontheatrical Film examine the place and role of race in educational films, home movies, industry and government films, anthropological films, and church films as well as other forms of nontheatrical filmmaking. From filmic depictions of Native Americans and films by 1920s African American religious leaders to a government educational film about the unequal treatment of Latin American immigrants, these films portrayed—for various purposes and intentions—the lives of those who were mostly excluded from the commercial films being produced in Hollywood. This volume is more than an examination of a broad swath of neglected twentieth-century filmmaking; it is a reevaluation of basic assumptions about American film culture and the place of race within it.<BR /><BR /> Contributors. Crystal Mun-hye Baik, Jasmyn R. Castro, Nadine Chan, Mark Garrett Cooper, Dino Everett, Allyson Nadia Field, Walter Forsberg, Joshua Glick, Tanya Goldman, Marsha Gordon, Noelle Griffis, Colin Gunckel, Michelle Kelley, Todd Kushigemachi, Martin L. Johnson, Caitlin McGrath, Elena Rossi-Snook, Laura Isabel Serna, Jacqueline Najuma Stewart, Dan Streible, Lauren Tilton, Noah Tsika, Travis L. Wagner, Colin Williamson}, publisher={Duke University Press}, year={2019} }
 @misc{gordon_2019, title={The American World War II Film}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781350996328.0005}, DOI={10.5040/9781350996328.0005}, journal={Screen Studies Articles}, publisher={Bloomsbury Publishing Plc}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2019} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={#MeToo on the 1930s silver screen}, url={https://theconversation.com/metoo-on-the-1930s-silver-screen-92321}, journal={The Conversation}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2018}, month={Mar} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={A Double Feature: Sam Fuller’s The Steel Helmet and Stanley Kubrick’s Fear and Desire}, volume={XLIII}, number={4}, journal={Cineaste}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2018}, pages={32–35} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={Brett Kavanaugh goes to the movies}, url={https://theconversation.com/brett-kavanaugh-goes-to-the-movies-104182}, journal={The Conversation}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2018}, month={Oct} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={Is it Time For a 21-st Century Version of The Day After?}, url={https://theconversation.com/is-it-time-for-a-21st-century-version-of-the-day-after-90270}, journal={The Conversation}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2018}, month={Jan} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={Nontheatrical Media}, volume={4}, ISSN={2373-7492}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1525/fmh.2018.4.2.128}, DOI={10.1525/fmh.2018.4.2.128}, abstractNote={Research Article| April 01 2018 Nontheatrical Media Marsha Gordon Marsha Gordon Marsha Gordon is a professor of film studies at North Carolina State University. She is the author of Film Is Like a Battleground: Sam Fuller's War Movies (Oxford University Press, 2017) and Hollywood Ambitions: Celebrity in the Movie Age (Wesleyan University Press, 2008), and coeditor of Learning with the Lights Off: Educational Film in the United States (Oxford University Press, 2012). She is the former coeditor of The Moving Image (University of Minnesota Press), the journal of the Association of Moving Image Archivists, and is currently completing a book titled Race and Nontheatrical Film for Duke University Press, coedited with Allyson Nadia Field. Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar Feminist Media Histories (2018) 4 (2): 128–134. https://doi.org/10.1525/fmh.2018.4.2.128 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Tools Icon Tools Get Permissions Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Marsha Gordon; Nontheatrical Media. Feminist Media Histories 1 April 2018; 4 (2): 128–134. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/fmh.2018.4.2.128 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentFeminist Media Histories Search Keywords: 16mm film, educational films, home movies, nontheatrical media, orphan films Madeline Anderson's thirty-minute documentary I Am Somebody (1969) is about an African American female hospital workers’ strike in Charleston, South Carolina. Anderson shot the film on 16mm and showed it to striking workers in nontheatrical settings after its completion. Its production, exhibition, and reception history suggests some of the complexities at play when considering the categorization of nontheatrical material. According to Anderson, “In the criticisms and analyses of the film by some white feminists during the 1970s, I Am Somebody was not regarded as a feminist film. To me, the importance of the film was not its classification, however; it is a film made by a black woman for and about black women.”1 Both a documentary film and a nontheatrical film, a film made independently by an African American woman about working African American women and a film about class and class struggle, I Am Somebody did not express... You do not currently have access to this content.}, number={2}, journal={Feminist Media Histories}, publisher={University of California Press}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2018}, pages={128–134} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={Six Must-See 21st Century Documentaries About Life in North Carolina}, volume={14}, url={https://news.ncsu.edu/2018/06/six-documentaries-about-nc/}, journal={NCSU News Services}, publisher={NCSU News Services}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2018}, month={Jun} }
 @article{gordon_2018, title={The cinema hypothesis: Teaching cinema in the classroom and beyond}, volume={44}, DOI={10.1086/698187}, abstractNote={Previous articleNext article No AccessThe CI ReviewAlain Bergala. The Cinema Hypothesis: Teaching Cinema in the Classroom and Beyond. Trans. Madeline Whittle. New York: Columbia University Press, 2016. 144 pp.Marsha GordonMarsha Gordon Search for more articles by this author Marsha Gordon is professor of Film Studies at North Carolina State University. She is the author of Film Is Like a Battleground: Sam Fuller’s War Movies (2017) and Hollywood Ambitions: Celebrity in the Movie Age (2008), and coeditor of Learning with the Lights Off: Educational Film in the United States (2012). She is the former editor of The Moving Image, the journal of the Association of Moving Image Archivists.PDFPDF PLUSFull Text Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail SectionsMoreDetailsFiguresReferencesCited by Critical Inquiry Volume 44, Number 4Summer 2018 Article DOIhttps://doi.org/10.1086/698187 Views: 197Total views on this site © 2018 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved. For permission to reuse, contact [email protected]PDF download Crossref reports no articles citing this article.}, number={4}, journal={Critical Inquiry}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2018}, pages={800–801} }
 @article{gordon_2017, title={Blade Runner’s Chillingly Prescient Vision of the Future}, url={https://theconversation.com/blade-runners-chillingly-prescient-vision-of-the-future-84973}, journal={The Conversation}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2017}, month={Oct} }
 @misc{gordon_2017, title={Film is Like a Battleground}, ISBN={9780190269746}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780190269746.001.0001}, DOI={10.1093/acprof:oso/9780190269746.001.0001}, abstractNote={Abstract Film Is Like a Battleground: Sam Fuller’s War Movies is the first book to focus on the genre that best defined the American director’s career: the war film. It draws on previously unexplored archival materials, such as Fuller’s Federal Bureau of Investigation files and World War II–era amateur films, to explore the director’s lifelong interest in making challenging, thought-provoking, and often politically risky movies about war. The book demonstrates that Fuller’s war films challenge audiences to consider the complex ethics of America’s military and ideological conflicts, alongside such competing, domestic concerns as racism and sexism. Fuller insisted on dealing with issues that were difficult to engage with, especially involving politics. Fuller regularly invoked hot-button topics during a time when such engagements were rare due to the intense scrutinizing of Hollywood for potentially subversive content and the studios’ financially driven aversion to anything that might diminish box office returns. Examining his hot and Cold War films in the context of his multimedia career, movie studio history, and output, as well as governmental policies about the industry, affords a rich understanding of this director’s contributions to the most overly political of all film genres.}, publisher={Oxford University Press}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2017}, month={Apr} }
 @misc{gordon_2017, title={Review of Alain Bregala’s The Cinema Hypothesis: Teaching Cinema in the Classroom and Beyond}, url={https://criticalinquiry.uchicago.edu/marsha_gordon_reviews_the_cinema_hypothesis/}, journal={Critical Inquiry}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2017}, month={Sep} }
 @article{gordon_everett_2016, title={3MM: The smallest gauge}, volume={16}, DOI={10.5749/movingimage.16.2.0001}, abstractNote={3MMThe Smallest Gauge Marsha Gordon (bio) and Dino Everett (bio) [End Page 1] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Eric Berndt (left), an unidentified woman holding a very small Cine-System 3 camera above a 35mm camera for contrast, and an unidentified man, circa 1960s. Courtesy of the Frank Mt. Pleasant Library of Special Collections and Archives, Chapman University. When film scholars and archivists refer to "small-gauge" film, they are specifying film more diminutive than what was, before the digital age, the 35mm width that was standard for theatrical production and exhibition. In the United States, "small gauge" typically refers to 16mm film, which was the medium of choice for nontheatrical filmmaking and distribution throughout the greater part of the twentieth century, or to 8mm and Super 8mm, the two formats used most frequently by home movie makers. Although these are by far the most common film gauges, film sizes and perforations were never uniform or standardized. As historian Kemp Niver has amply demonstrated, 70mm, 62mm, 50mm, 28mm, 24mm, 22mm, 17.5mm, 17mm, 13mm, 9.5mm, and other variations were all employed at various times, some more widely than others.1 Some of these commercially available formats were quite small. Take, for example, that used by Edison in his Home Kinetoscope, which made its commercial debut in 1912.2 Home Kinetoscope film was 22mm wide, but the frame was closer in size to that of standard 8mm (which contains an image size of 3.3mm × 4.5mm) because there [End Page 2] were three rows of images across the width of the 22mm film. Billed as a space-saving format, "a single foot" of Home Kinetoscope film contained "210 pictures, seventy in each row," making "eighty feet of film" equivalent to "a thousand feet of commercial film."3 A decade after Home Kinetoscopes hit the market, 1922 saw the release of Vitalux, which was a circular band of film 125mm tall and 440mm wide with twenty-three stacked rows of 6mm × 9mm images. In 1956, Pathé's Monoplex 4.75mm film was introduced in an attempt to cash in on the widescreen phenomenon. The width was created by cutting standard 9.5mm film vertically down the middle and projecting it horizontally, not unlike the method used by Paramount with its significantly larger VistaVision widescreen format. In the case of Pathé, creating a widescreen image from such a small original source resulted in a grainy and unimpressive projected image. Cutting the film down the center also resulted in a 1.51:1 aspect ratio, which was hardly the widescreen that was promised.4 All of these small formats were commercial failures. Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 2. Eric Berndt (center) demonstrating his Cine-System 3 camera, circa 1960s. The man on the right has a badge that reads "Patrick Pfeiffer, Texas Instruments." Courtesy of the Frank Mt. Pleasant Library of Special Collections and Archives, Chapman University. [End Page 3] These formats were also far from small in comparison to what we believe to be the smallest film gauge of all, about which (perhaps appropriately!) little is known and still less survives: 3mm film, which is more precisely 3.2mm wide, and the equipment used to manufacture, develop, and project it. Such small-gauge film formats as these deserve our attention not only because of their uniqueness but because they are a reminder that so much of film history—and the men and women who often made significant contributions to that history—remains inadequately documented. What follows explores the short but fascinating life of 3mm film and gives details about its inventor, Eric M. Berndt, now a forgotten but key figure in film history, especially of the nontheatrical variety. His tiny invention represents a lost chapter in film's vast material history. This article is part media archeology of a forgotten film format and part documentation of one way archivists might explore the paths taken by many film tinkerers, engineers, and experimenters of the past who, like Berndt, created film formats and equipment that failed to gain traction in the marketplace but that are justifiably part of film's complicated, unruly, and largely unwritten...}, number={2}, journal={Moving Image}, author={Gordon, Marsha and Everett, D.}, year={2016}, pages={1–20} }
 @article{gordon_field_2016, title={The Other side of the tracks: Nontheatrical film history, pre-rebellion Watts, and Felicia}, volume={55}, DOI={10.1353/cj.2016.0016}, abstractNote={Felicia (Alan Gorg, Bob Dickson, and Trevor Greenwood, 1965), a short educational film about a teenage girl living in Watts, California, chronicles a day in the life of a high school junior as she reflects on her geographical situation and life aspirations. This article considers how Felicia is particularly suited to a discussion of the ways that urban spaces, and Watts in particular, were imagined in the 1960s. It demonstrates how nontheatrical film can inform our understanding of film history and enrich discussions of documentary filmmaking, the role of student filmmakers, and other cinematic movements such as that of the LA Rebellion.}, number={2}, journal={Cinema Journal}, author={Gordon, Marsha and Field, A. N.}, year={2016}, pages={1–24} }
 @article{gordon_2015, title={An Introduction to the Bastard Film Encounter}, volume={6}, journal={INCITE: Journal of Experimental Media}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2015}, pages={130–132} }
 @article{gordon_2013, title={Editor's Foreword}, volume={13}, ISSN={1532-3978}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.5749/movingimage.13.1.viii}, DOI={10.5749/movingimage.13.1.viii}, abstractNote={Editor’s Foreword Marsha Gordon (bio) This special “Histories of Moving Image Archives” issue began with a call for contributions “that explore moving image archive history, attending to archives large and small, urban and rural, government-run and independent, in the U.S. and abroad.” Many months later, this issue offers essays covering almost all the territory laid out in this original call, which sought to bring together documentation and analysis of an array of archival organizations and practices. Essays and Forum pieces appear in the pages that follow on the subjects of collections, collectors, and archivists based in Italy, the United States (Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, and Washington State), India, Cuba, France, and Austria. Although far from comprehensive, the writing gathered here paints an interesting international portrait of audiovisual archiving’s past, present, and future in contexts that vary quite radically in terms of resources and politics. These essays also collectively suggest how much we still have to learn about archival history. The issue begins with an essay that is theoretically and historically engaged with the work of archiving: “From Nitrate to Digital Archive: The Davide Turconi Project.” This essay is focused on the legacy left by Turconi, cofounder of the Giornate del Cinema Muto, whose collection of frame clippings forms the basis for the archival project under discussion here. Alicia Fletcher and Joshua Yumibe grapple with issues of preservation and format migration through the lens of this major nitrate film project. As they put it, “a timeline of the collection’s care—from the early 1900s to present day—lays bare the history of film preservation and archival practices.” Indeed, their essay traces changes in archival practice in a fashion that engages with issues at the forefront of our digitally oriented culture to suggest the ways in which film’s very materiality is at stake in this time of radical technological transformation. [End Page viii] Individuals like Turconi always play a role in the history of film preservation, and this is certainly the case for the collection that Dino Everett and Jennifer Peterson team up to discuss in “When Film Went to College: A Brief History of the USC Hugh M. Hefner Moving Image Archive.” Focusing on the archive’s nontheatrical film holdings, Everett and Peterson use this collection’s internally well-documented history in the non-theatrical field to suggest “the role universities played in the educational film market in the mid-twentieth century, at a time when 16mm nontheatrical cinema was at its peak.” The University of Southern California (USC) produced as well as distributed nontheatrical films, and the campus remains a major repository of this important part of the nation’s moving image heritage. Everett and Peterson aim to document the significant role played by the former head of Audio-Visual Services at the archives, Herbert E. Farmer, who created and cared for the collection from its inception (1947) until his retirement (1992), shaping the archive and its holdings in ways that are still evident today. Like so many unsung advocates, collectors, and gatekeepers, Farmer is somewhat of a lost figure to USC, nontheatrical film, and archival history, and Everett and Peterson have done the diligent work here of bringing his contributions to light. Utilization and resources are key issues for the archival community, and the next essay in this issue addresses these in a very particular set of circumstances. Using her experience in Cuba with the International Federation of Film Archives’s (FIAF) School on Wheels initiative as a jumping-off point, Janet Ceja Alcalá’s “Imperfect Archives and the Principle of Social Praxis in the History of Film Preservation in Latin America” examines motion picture archiving in Latin America. Using the idea of “imperfect” archives, Alcalá discusses the intersections between politics and archiving in this national and political context, arguing for the value of these archives despite, and perhaps precisely because of, the financial limitations and censorship practices that have made their existence so problematic and difficult. Linking ideas of national cinema to international politics, the author understands what has been widely acknowledged as the socially constructed nature of archiving in the unique contexts of Latin America. As Alcalá puts it, “the...}, number={1}, journal={The Moving Image: The Journal of the Association of Moving Image Archivists}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2013}, pages={viii} }
 @inbook{gordon_2013, place={New York}, title={Hettie Gray Baker}, url={https://wfpp.columbia.edu/pioneer/ccp-hettie-gray-baker/}, booktitle={Women Film Pioneers Project}, publisher={Center for Digital Research and Scholarship, Columbia University Libraries}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Gaines, Jane and Vatsal, Radha and Dall’Asta, MonicaEditors}, year={2013} }
 @article{gordon_2013, title={Lenticular Spectacles: Kodacolor's Fit in the Amateur Arsenal}, volume={25}, ISSN={0892-2160}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.2979/filmhistory.25.4.36}, DOI={10.2979/filmhistory.25.4.36}, abstractNote={On the American marketplace for only a short period, and more precious and temperamental than black-and-white 16mm film stock, Kodacolor (in production from 1928 through 1935) is occasionally encountered in home movie collections but has not been examined in a scholarly context. This essay contextualizes the format and will make a case for its importance to screen studies, especially for amateur film history. Kodacolor provided the home moviemaker with something even Hollywood filmmakers did not have at the time: a relatively easy way to make and show color films. After establishing the history of Kodacolor, I explore one family’s aesthetically and technically fascinating use of the format. This amateur film collection, on deposit at Northeast Historic Film, facilitates some pertinent observations about how and why this technology was employed and why it had such a short-lived existence.}, number={4}, journal={Film History}, publisher={Indiana University Press}, author={Gordon}, year={2013}, pages={36} }
 @inbook{gordon_streible_orgeron_2012, place={UK}, title={A History of Learning with the Lights Off}, booktitle={Learning With the Lights Off: Educational Film in the United States}, publisher={Oxford University Press}, author={Gordon, M. and Streible, D. and Orgeron, D.}, editor={Orgeron, D. and Gordon, M. and Streible, D.Editors}, year={2012}, pages={15–66} }
 @article{orgeron_orgeron_2012, title={Editors' Foreword}, volume={12}, ISSN={1542-4235}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/mov.2012.0006}, DOI={10.1353/mov.2012.0006}, abstractNote={Editors' Foreword Marsha Orgeron (bio) and Devin Orgeron (bio) This themed issue of The Moving Image began in earnest at a roundtable lunch (we mean that literally!) that took place during the 2010 Orphan Film Symposium in New York City. Around that table sat the two of us with Andy Lampert (Anthology Film Archives), Jeff Lambert (National Film Preservation Foundation), Liz Coffey (Harvard Film Archives), Mark Toscano (Academy Film Archives), Bill Brand (BB Optics), and Ken Eisenstein (University of Chicago). We gathered this group to talk about the potential of theming an issue of the journal on the subject of experimental or avant-garde moving images and the archive, and the result of that initial conversation appears in the pages that follow. The assistance provided by this group gave considerable momentum to the issue, and we are especially grateful to Ken Eisenstein and Ross Lipman, whose enthusiasm for and interest in this material ignited our own. Our sense from the start was that this was an auspicious time for this topic to receive the kind of focused attention a special issue would provide, and our informal lunch meeting confirmed this. Recent presentations, exhibitions, symposia, publications, screenings, websites, archival donations, and a more general resurgence of interest in experimental media indicated a need for a space in which to consider this subject and its relationship to and implications for the archive. The Alternative Projections symposium in Los Angeles in November 2010 is an excellent case in point. A sort of soft opening for Filmforum's ambitious Alternative Projections Project—an online portal exploring the community of filmmakers, artists, curators, and organizations who contributed to the creation and presentation of experimental film and video in Southern California in the postwar era (the website went live in July 2011 at http://alternativeprojections.com/)—the symposium and the excitement it generated [End Page viii] signaled a change in this material's at times precarious status both inside and outside of the academy and the archive. Our intuitions about the subject's timeliness were further supported by the overwhelming response we had to our call for proposals. When all was said and done, we received over sixty proposals for the feature and Forum sections—a truly impressive and, we suspect, unprecedented number for The Moving Image. With the assistance of our many advisers from the Editorial Board as well as from the larger experimental media community, we painstakingly thinned the proposals and, in the months since, have been working with authors and readers on the submission, evaluation, and revision process. We realized early on that we could easily have themed several issues on this subject. The volume and quality of the proposals and essays we received that, for one reason or another, did not make it into this issue suggest the vibrancy of work in this area, which extends well beyond our admittedly rather focused parameters. What does appear in the pages that follow—four feature articles, eight shorter think pieces, two interviews, and two collaboratively authored Forum essays—represents a spectrum of current views on and research in this exciting and challenging field. Having now immersed ourselves in this world for a short time, we feel convinced that experimental media is being attended to—by archivists, exhibitors, distributors, and scholars—in ways that promise to change the landscape of the discipline—of several disciplines, really—in the years to come. We begin the issue with Juan Carlos Kase's "Encounters with the Real: Historicizing Stan Brakhage's The Act of Seeing with one's own eyes." Kase's argument is a highly nuanced variation on a theme we are seeing more frequently in the pages of The Moving Image, namely, that our access to the archival material surrounding moving images can alter, sometimes radically, our sense of the place these films and their makers occupy in history. While many of us celebrate, for example, the release of a small fraction of this material on DVD or other digital formats (Criterion's By Brakhage collection, for example), we need more than thoughtful liner notes to come to terms with work this personally, geographically, and technologically specific. Kase sums it up most succinctly when he writes...}, number={1}, journal={The Moving Image}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha and Orgeron, Devin}, year={2012}, pages={viii-xiv} }
 @inbook{gordon_2012, place={Madison, WI}, title={GI’s Documenting Genocide: Amateur Films of WWII Concentration Camps}, booktitle={Film and Genocide}, publisher={University of Wisconsin Press}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Crowder, Tomas and Wilson, KristiEditors}, year={2012}, pages={170–186} }
 @book{gordon_streible_orgeron_2012, title={Learning with the Lights Off: Educational Film in the United States}, publisher={Oxford University Press}, year={2012} }
 @inbook{gordon_2012, place={UK}, title={Multi-Purposing Early Cinema: A Psychological Experiment Involving Van Bibber’s Experiment (Thomas Edison, 1911)}, booktitle={Beyond the Screen: Institutions, Networks and Publics of Early Cinema}, publisher={John Libbey}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Braun, Marta and Keil, Charlie and King, Rob and Moore, Paul and Pelletier, LouisEditors}, year={2012}, pages={153–160} }
 @inbook{gordon_2012, place={UK}, title={‘A Decent and Orderly Society’: Race Relations in Riot-Era Educational Films, 1966-1970}, booktitle={Learning With the Lights Off: Educational Film in the United States}, publisher={Oxford University Press}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Orgeron, D. and Gordon, M. and Streible, D.Editors}, year={2012}, pages={424–441} }
 @article{orgeron_orgeron_2011, title={Editors' Foreword}, volume={11}, ISSN={1542-4235}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/mov.2011.0037}, DOI={10.1353/mov.2011.0037}, abstractNote={Editors' Foreword Marsha Orgeron (bio) and Devin Orgeron (bio) On the plane back to North Carolina from the March 2011 Society for Cinema and Media Studies Conference in New Orleans, Louisiana, we had a chance to start reading Caroline Frick's Saving Cinema: The Politics of Preservation (2011). The book's publication, more than any jacket blurb can indicate, is worth remarking on as a segue into this latest issue of The Moving Image. Perhaps most critically, Frick records and contextualizes a discussion that is no longer confined to the Association of Moving Image Archivists or the International Federation of Film Archives or any single organization. Appearing at a moment when it is most certainly needed, Frick's work, as its title indicates, accounts for the uncomfortable fact that our collective cinematic history and its well-being are—and always have been—influenced by personal, institutional, corporate, governmental, and global politics. History and history making are not pure or ideologically neutral endeavors, and this fact must be confronted and assessed by those who are in a position to influence the kinds of decisions that are made about moving image legacies every day. Moving image legacies are also the subject of Alice Lovejoy's essay "Surplus Material: Archives, History, and Innovation in Czechoslovak Army Films." In this pioneering exploration of a neglected aspect of Czech and Slovak film history, Lovejoy explores a series of films produced in the 1960s by Czechoslovakia's Army Film Studio, which she contends "used unique and often experimental approaches to archival material to challenge official histories of the postwar period." Situating these films within a broader lineage of East European compilation filmmaking, Lovejoy analyzes the ways that archival footage was procured and deployed in a sampling of Czechoslovak Army productions. Her essay indicates the degree to which film historians working with archival [End Page viii] materials contribute to a better understanding of the role played by archives not only as contemporary repositories of film history but also as points of access for historical images that demand the kind of critical scrutiny provided in this essay. Recalling the political and cultural context in which these films were produced, the use of archival evidence—and particularly the provocative editing of this material—enabled filmmakers to rebel against the intended meanings of historical images. Lovejoy's work, in other words, goes to the archive in an effort to more fully appreciate how and why a group of filmmakers themselves went to the archives. The intended meanings of archival materials end up also being the subject of Cecilia Mörner's "Dealing with Domestic Films: Methodological Strategies and Pitfalls in Studies of Home Movies from the Predigital Era," albeit in a very different context. Mörner offers a perspective on best practices for working with home movie materials, alongside a discussion of home movie collections that reside in the Swedish film archive in Grängesberg. Mörner's article argues for the importance of looking beyond the images contained in home movies to improve researchers' understandings of this unique type of moving image holding, which resists many traditional film studies methodologies. Suggesting that home movie scholarship lacking ethnographic detail is often flawed, Mörner offers a case study to illustrate the many inaccuracies that might occur as a result of interpreters' reliance on visual codes and cultural assumptions that often guide readings of these highly personal, idiosyncratic materials. Suggesting that home movies themselves are not texts as we have come to define them because they are not narrative in nature, Mörner argues that attempts at textual analysis of home movies are futile. Although the suggestion might be controversial (reliant, as it is, on a fairly specific understanding of textuality), Mörner effectively reminds readers of the sometimes conveniently neglected fact that these materials have contexts that should, whenever possible, be brought to bear on scholars' and archivists' efforts to understand this particular kind of moving image. Mörner's essay focuses on home movie collections in Sweden. Christopher Natzén's work stays within the same national framework, but focuses on the importation of a new technology for mainstream film exhibition. "'Have You Heard It Yet?' Advertising the First...}, number={2}, journal={The Moving Image}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha and Orgeron, Devin}, year={2011}, pages={viii-xi} }
 @article{orgeron_orgeron_2011, title={Editors’ Foreword}, volume={11}, ISSN={1542-4235}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/mov.2011.0018}, DOI={10.1353/mov.2011.0018}, abstractNote={Editors’ Foreword Marsha Orgeron (bio) and Devin Orgeron (bio) The first issue of The Moving Image for 2011 marks two important milestones: the journal is embarking on its second decade of publication at the same moment that the Association of Moving Image Archivists (AMIA) is transitioning into its third decade of existence. The journal and its sponsoring association have racked up substantial histories worth reflecting on at this juncture, and this issue commemorates the occasion with a substantial Forum section that records perspectives on how AMIA began, what the organization has accomplished, and what role it might play in the future. A society built around the archival profession owes itself a record of its existence, and we hope that these pages will begin to fulfill that function in a way that will prove useful for current and future generations of moving image archivists and scholars looking back to the organization’s roots and development. One refrain repeated throughout this issue’s Forum concerns the international possibilities that AMIA might continue to explore as it evolves in the years to come. The Moving Image is, in fact, playing a pivotal role in this effort. For this reason, it seems especially appropriate that the articles in this issue are international in both scope and origin. Furthermore, the essays collected here revolve around the value of not just moving image holdings but paper archives, collections that allow these authors to reconstruct film histories that would otherwise have been unknowable. Sarah Street’s “Negotiating the Archives: The Natalie Kalmus Papers and the ‘Branding’ of Technicolor in Britain and the United States” is an account of the author’s research at the Margaret Herrick Library in Los Angeles, where Kalmus’s papers reside. Kalmus, a major figure in the history of color film, has been written about in a variety of [End Page viii] contexts, perhaps most notoriously in Eleanore King Kalmus’s at times rather one-sided 1993 book Mr. Technicolor. A collaboration between Technicolor’s cofounder and president Herbert Kalmus and his second wife, Mr. Technicolor all but writes Natalie Kalmus out of the company’s history. Street, on the other hand, demonstrates the underexplored reach of Kalmus’s influence on British productions and on British popular culture more broadly. Street’s research narrative is a familiar one to scholars who believe (and hope) that the archive will contain answers to pressing questions, and it offers those who have not been able to travel to the Herrick both a sense of the Kalmus collection’s relevance and a reproduction of the complete finding aid for these materials. As often as not, archival research leads to new questions. Street’s narrative, however, serves to remind us that the archival record is never complete and always needs to be read against a range of other texts. Street’s work also indicates the degree to which the preservation of moving image culture involves a great deal more than the preservation of just moving images. Eric Smoodin, in “Going to the Movies in Paris, around 1933: Film Culture, National Cinema, and Historical Method,” takes this notion a step further. Smoodin’s research, which takes its cue from other regionally focused studies of filmgoing habits, differs in both its subject and its approach. As Smoodin writes, “despite [an] abundance of possibilities for the movie enthusiast from the period and also the mythic status of Paris as a movie capital during the interwar years, we still know very little about going to the movies there in the 1930s.” While Smoodin’s research is archivally reliant (focused, as it is, on the journalism of the decade), perhaps equally interesting is his attempt to frame the city and its vast cinematic networks in archival terms. The implications here are twofold. On one hand, the city’s inhabitants (and also the press) function like [End Page ix] archivists, assigning value to films and influencing their movement. On the other hand, Smoodin’s research reveals useful new contextual information for archives to consider as they ponder their own collections. His cinematic geography of the city, in other words, excavates meanings that have shifted, and these shifts, Smoodin suggests, are a critical part of...}, number={1}, journal={The Moving Image}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha and Orgeron, Devin}, year={2011}, pages={viii-xiv} }
 @article{orgeron_orgeron_2011, title={Object Lessons: <i>An Introduction to an Interview with Jan Švankmajer That Turned into an Essay by Jan Švankmajer</i>}, volume={11}, ISSN={1542-4235}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/mov.2011.0039}, DOI={10.1353/mov.2011.0039}, abstractNote={Object Lessons: An Introduction to an Interview with Jan Švankmajer That Turned into an Essay by Jan Švankmajer Devin Orgeron (bio) and Marsha Orgeron (bio) We did not go to Prague expecting to interview Jan Švankmajer. We knew, however, that the enormously influential Czech surrealist filmmaker's work would feature prominently in the film courses we were teaching for North Carolina State University's Prague Institute in summer 2009. And we knew that Gambra, Švankmajer's Prague gallery, would be just a few minutes' walk from our apartment. We also knew that it couldn't hurt to try to meet someone whose films we had both greatly admired and marveled at for many years. Our summer in Prague occurred just as we were accepting the reins of The Moving Image, and we hoped to do some work relevant to the journal during our stay. Both of us had always thought of Švankmajer—the director of such feature films as Neco z Alenky (Alice; 1988), Faust (1994), Otesánek (Little Otik; 2000), and Sílení (Lunacy; 2005)—in archival terms. A collector whose obsessions are evident in all his work, Švankmajer's cinematic aesthetic is defined by the objects that populate his films. Watching even one of Švankmajer's many short films, the viewer is soon aware that she is in the hands of an artist with a vast inventory of objects at his disposal and that these objects literally bring life to his highly inventive, often quite disturbing worlds. With our minds on The Moving Image as we settled into our Prague summer, we found ourselves returning to the subject of Švankmajer. His own seemingly idiosyncratic practice—his concepts of collection, organization, and access—seemed to quite productively defy a number of our largely academically conceived notions. What, we wondered, might Jan Švankmajer have to say about the idea of the archive? Švankmajer works in a number of media, but he is best known for his filmed surrealist animations. Surrealism—maybe generally, but certainly as Švankmajer practices it—might be thought of as a form of archiving that, among other things, explodes some of the barriers that exist between seemingly incongruous objects. Thought of in these terms, stop-motion animation of the sort Švankmajer incorporates into his work is a near-perfect surrealist method for its uncanny ability to defamiliarize otherwise familiar objects by altering their presumed context and by reorganizing them in surprising ways. Before the term came into the popular vocabulary, Švankmajer was a remix filmmaker, assembling narratives, not from bits and pieces of found film (à la Craig Baldwin), but from bits and pieces of discarded culture more broadly (dolls, buttons, playing cards, bones, flatware, meat, etc.). This method of finding new and unexpected contexts and situations for objects that might otherwise be mistaken for cultural refuse forms the foundational logic of Švankmajer's cinema. It is also a philosophy that informs Švankmajer's approach to collecting. Like many surrealists before him, Švankmajer has penned or signed a number of manifesto-like statements over the years, though very little of his writing is available in English. Perhaps best known is the artist's "Decalogue," sort of a ten commandments of Švankmajerism. Here Švankmajer makes several declarations of particular interest to the archival community. Though speaking of objects generally, Švankmajer writes, in the third commandment, that "first you have to become a collector and only then a filmmaker. Bringing objects to life through animation has to be a natural process. Life has to come from within them, not from your whim. Never violate objects!" 1 Objects, in Švankmajer's view, are never neutral. They possess a will. The make demands on their hosts. They determine their own organizational logic. Because Švankmajer speaks little English, and we speak even less Czech, he requested that we provide our questions prior to our visit to his studio in Knoviz. We prepared two pages of questions (graciously translated into Czech by the amazing Pavla Jonssonová, of rock band Zuby Nehty fame), many of which asked the filmmaker to consider the particular circumstances involved in the collection and [End Page 100] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Jan Švankmajer in the...}, number={2}, journal={The Moving Image}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Devin and Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2011}, pages={100–102} }
 @inbook{gordon_parsons_2010, title={Alexander Bogardy's Beauty Books}, booktitle={Raw Vision}, publisher={National Gallery of Art}, author={Gordon, M. and Parsons, Peggy}, year={2010}, pages={48–51} }
 @article{gordon_2010, title={Editors’ Foreword}, volume={10}, number={1}, journal={The Moving Image}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2010}, pages={vii-xiii} }
 @article{orgeron_2009, title={"You Are Invited to Participate": Interactive Fandom in the Age of the Movie Magazine}, volume={61}, ISSN={1934-6018}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/jfv.0.0037}, DOI={10.1353/jfv.0.0037}, abstractNote={THERE EXISTS A SIGNIFICANT CRITICAL LIT- ERATURE about motion picture marketing and advertisement, especially concerning the re- lated subject of American movie fan magazines. Much of this scholarship revolves around the gendering of discourse aimed at the fan maga- zine reader, especially over the course of the 1910s and 20s, and the degree to which these magazines increasingly spoke to women who were confronted with a range of entertainment options and related forms of consumerism.2 However, there have been few attempts by scholars to account for the ways that the read- ers of movie magazines both were encouraged to behave and, indeed, responded to this insti- tutionalizing of fan culture. Jane Gaines makes a point akin to this in her 1985 essay "War, Women, and Lipstick": "Our most sophisticated tools of structural analysis can't tell us who read fan magazines, In what spirit or mood, or in what social context. Were they read on maga- zine stands next to bus stops, in waiting rooms, or under the dryers at beauty parlors? Or maybe they were never read at all, but purchased only for images, to cut up, tack on walls, or paste into scrapbooks" (46). Where Gaines abandons this quest, casting it aside as an ancillary and perhaps even futile pursuit, I want to investigate one relatively unexplored avenue for understanding how fans both read and responded to movie magazines and the culture they created. Although this article begins somewhat conventionally with a discussion of how fan magazines from Hollywood's heyday (the 1910s through the 40s) were encoded, its ultimate aim is to assess how the magazines shaped their readers' understanding of their own relation to star culture. I argue here that one way to discern how the fan magazines motivated certain aspects of fan behavior is by looking to fan letters. This strikes me as an especially important task given the reluctance of many scholars to venture into this admittedly difficult territory. The tendency to abandon fans' reactions at the theoretical level leaves us at a critical impasse that is not, I think, entirely insurmountable. By looking at fan magazines and the ways in which they constructed and trained a particular kind of ideal reader, and then by turning to written evidence in the form of fan mail for substantiation of the ways that at least some movie fans represented themselves, we emerge with a sense of the interactive culture that was being generated in the magazines' pages.3 1 cannot hope to answer Gaines's particular lines of inquiry; however, I can suggest some very concrete ways that the fan magazine reader was spoken to and then spoke with regard to the cultures of celebrity and fandom. In her work on celebrity, Adrienne McLean notes, "The relationship of the fan magazine itself to advertising, product tie-ins, and consumerism is clear, but that women experienced fan magazine discourse only or predominantly as consumers is not" [Being Rita Hayworth 74). Indeed, I hope to both affirm and extend McLean's formulation here by analyzing at least one way that fans acted beyond, but not outside of, the commercial paradigm laid out in the magazines. Fan mail reveals the ways that fans were led not just to an ongoing cycle of consumption, but also to aspirations of a social nature involving both star qualities and the stars themselves. These ambitions often exceeded the boundaries of interaction offered in the magazines' pages. As the following analysis demonstrates, the magazines sought to train their readers to take an active role in their spectatorial and consuming lives, but this training also led fans elsewhere, particularly to the stars themselves. Fan magazines are, as Anne Morey writes in an essay about the fiction published in their pages, "readily available reservoirs of information about how viewers might have used films" (334). I would add that this reservoir of information can lead us to other, even more personal sources of knowledge about how viewers interacted with the motion picture industry. …}, number={3}, journal={Journal of Film and Video}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2009}, pages={3–23} }
 @misc{orgeron_2009, title={Book review}, volume={29}, ISSN={0143-9685 1465-3451}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01439680902834595}, DOI={10.1080/01439680902834595}, abstractNote={scrutiny on their Jewishness’ (p. 178). For Horne, Lawson thus becomes a tragic victim of the doctrinaire anticommunism, which halted reform movements, limited creative expression in the arts, and violated civil liberties and freedom of speech. This counter-hegemonic depiction of Lawson is a convincing one. Horne writes well, and his research is most impressive. Books about Hollywood figures are all too often based upon an uncritical acceptance of interviews with participants. Horne does employ oral history, such as an interview with Lawson’s estranged son, but the author relies primarily upon extensive archival sources, including the John Howard Lawson Papers at the University of Southern Illinois—Carbondale. In this remarkable biography, John Howard Lawson— the final victim of the blacklist—gets the final word.}, number={1}, journal={Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television}, publisher={Informa UK Limited}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2009}, month={Mar}, pages={139–141} }
 @misc{gordon_2009, title={Review of Lisa Dombrowski’s The Films of Sam Fuller: If You Die I’ll Kill You!}, volume={29}, number={1}, journal={The Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2009}, month={Mar}, pages={139–141} }
 @article{orgeron_2008, title={Filming The Marines In The Pacific: An Interview With World War II Cinematographer Norman Hatch}, volume={28}, ISSN={0143-9685 1465-3451}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01439680802077196}, DOI={10.1080/01439680802077196}, abstractNote={Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Acknowledgments I am grateful for a Scholarly Project Award from the College of Humanities and Social Sciences at North Carolina State University, which has funded my investigation of World War II cinematography and which made this research trip and interview possible. Notes Notes 1. Almost all of the unofficial, amateur film that I’ve encountered from the war was shot by men in the Army. For example, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum has begun to put its impressive moving image collection online and you can view some of this amateur (as well as official) film at http://resources.ushmm.org/film/search/index.php 2. Lawrence Suid, Guts & Glory: the making of the American military image in film, revised and expanded edition (Lexington, KY, University of Kentucky Press, 2002), 118. 3. With the Marines at Tarawa is viewable at http://www.archive.org/details/WiththeMarinesatTarawa and To The Shores of Iwo Jima at http://www.archive.org/details/iwojima 4. Hatch is, of course, referring to the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. 5. Hayward had been a Hollywood actor since the 1930s, and served as Director for With the Marines at Tarawa. 6. Peter Maslowski notes that, ‘Before Tarawa, the Marines’ photography had been unimpressive. Wake Island had been missed entirely, and coverage of the six-month battle for Guadalcanal was sparse,’ largely due to a severe lack of cameramen, equipment, and film. Peter Maslowski, Armed with Cameras: the American military photographers of World War II (New York, The Free Press, 1993), 223. Maslowski goes on to argue that Tarawa marked an important turning point in the Marines’ photographic capabilities. 7. The film is viewable at the Internet Archive, http://www.archive.org/details/glamour_gal}, number={2}, journal={Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television}, publisher={Informa UK Limited}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2008}, month={Jun}, pages={153–173} }
 @book{gordon_2008, place={MIddletown, Connecticut}, title={Hollywood Ambitions: Celebrity in the Movie Age}, ISBN={9780819568649 0819568643 9780819568656 0819568651}, publisher={Wesleyan University Press}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2008} }
 @inbook{gordon_2008, place={New York}, title={The History of Media Celebrity}, booktitle={The Oxford Handbook of Film and Media Studies}, publisher={Oxford University Press}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Kolker, RobertEditor}, year={2008}, month={Aug}, pages={187–223} }
 @article{orgeron_cary_2007, title={&quot;I Came Back as Nobody&quot;: An Interview with the Former Baby Peggy}, volume={48}, ISSN={1559-7989}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/frm.2007.0006}, DOI={10.1353/frm.2007.0006}, abstractNote={On March 10, 2006 I interviewed Diana Serra Cary, best known for her career as the 1920s child movie star Baby Peggy. Ms. Cary was born October 29, 1918 and began making films at the age of twenty months after being discovered by director Fred Fishback. Her parents signed her to a contract at poverty row's Century Studio, where she was first featured in a series of tworeelers with Brownie the Wonder Dog. Six months later Century producers Julius and Abe Stern declared her a "star," giving Baby Peggy her own series and production unit. As Motion Picture News reported it, "Baby Peggy, the talented, versatile little two year old, famous for her work as co-star to Brownie the wonder dog, has been elevated to stardom."1 Baby Peggy was a veritable phenomenon of early child actor stardom. In a 1922 Motion Picture Classic Willis Goldbeck described her as, "with Jackie Coogan, one of the two kid stars who have justified individual stardom."2 Critics often noted her knack for comedy and her smile-inducing cuteness, whether making mischief with a box of Edward Everett Horton's shirt collars in Helen's Babies (William Seiter, US, 1924) or pretending to be Rudolph Valentino in Peg O' the Movies (Alfred Goulding, US, 1923). Adela Rogers St. Johns wrote of her, "Nothing else in the world except a tiny, black kitten- very fluffy-or a very small, white bull pup could possibly be as cute as Baby Peggy."3 Dorothy Whitehall's "Juvenile Critic" column proclaimed that the young actress' antics in Peg O' the Movies made her laugh until she cried.4 A 1923 Baby Peggy look-alike contest in Denver, Colorado resulted in a reported onslaught of 3,000 aspirants: "Eleven hundred boxes of candy were given away, and then the promoters quit in despair."5 Photoplay called her "not one of your curled and frilled starlets, but a bobbed, banged, comical child of three, with more humor in one diminutive finger than grown-up luminaries have in ten manicured digits."6 All of this before her fifth birthday. After her father broke an immensely lucrative contract with independent producer Sol Lesser in 1925, Baby Peggy hit the vaudeville circuit as a headliner, compelled by her parents to continue supporting the family by exploiting her Hollywood fame on the road. In 1932, Baby Peggy-now using the adolescent name Peggy Montgomery-returned to Hollywood, but the silent era was long gone and the former child star had little to broker in the newly reinvented sound-era Hollywood. Again urged on by her parents, Montgomery struggled to find work as an extra, taking largely uncredited bit parts. She had now lived the life of the preeminent child star and the struggling Hollywood extra. A 1932 Movie Classic article, titled "Remember Baby Peggy? She's Back Again-As a Young Lady," heralds her return to Hollywood and reports a new contract to make two-reel comedies with the Gleason family.7 Following an unsuccessful lawsuit, filed by Peggy's father Jack Montomgery against actor James Gleason and producer Norman Sper for allegedly breaking this nine picture contract, Peggy Montgomery's 1933 headline read: "Film Actress, 14, Loses $500,000 Action in Court."8 Ms. Cary permanently retired from the screen when she married in 1938, and left Hollywood altogether in 1943 when she joined her husband at Fort Ord in northern California. Only a handful of the feature films made with Baby Peggy survive, and few of the approximately 150 two-reelers she made for Century are extant.9 None of the surviving films are yet available on DVD. This is a particular shame given Ms. Cary's capacity for informed commentary and historical insight, which she has amply demonstrated in her four wellresearched and smartly written books: The Hollywood Posse, Whatever Happened to Baby Peggy?, Hollywood's Children: An Inside Account of the Child Star Era, and Jackie Coogan: The World's Boy King. Ms. Cary has become a major advocate for the rights of child stars, whose parents often control not only their lives but their considerable fortunes as well. …}, number={1}, journal={Framework: The Journal of Cinema and Media}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha. and Cary, Diana Serra}, year={2007}, pages={4–22} }
 @article{orgeron_elsheimer_2007, title={&quot;Something Different in Science Films&quot;: The Moody Institute of Science and the Canned Missionary Movement}, volume={7}, ISSN={1542-4235}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/mov.2007.0025}, DOI={10.1353/mov.2007.0025}, abstractNote={"Something Different in Science Films" The Moody Institute of Science and the Canned Missionary Movement Marsha Orgeron Skip Elsheimer [End Page 1] The Moody Institute of Science (MIS) was founded in 1945 by the Moody Bible Institute and Irwin A. Moon as an evangelical group that used science demonstrations to preach to the masses. A California pastor who had been using science experiments in his sermons since the early 1930s, Moon believed that the marvels of science provided visible evidence of a divine plan of creation. In the late 1940s, MIS—with Moon as their director—began producing a series of technologically innovative, often riveting, and always religiously motivated science and social studies films. As James Gilbert in Redeeming Culture and Heather Hendershot in Shaking the World for Jesus demonstrate, these films provided a religious interpretation for science, offering their viewers—in the church as well as in the American military, the public school system, and industry—a glimpse of a natural world so complex that it could only be explained, according to the films' narrators, through the existence of a higher power or an intelligent designer.1 In fact, MIS's first films—like The God of Creation (1946) and God of the Atom (1947)—were conceived of precisely as "Sermons from Science," a concept Moon developed in the late 1930s while conducting live scientific-evangelical demonstrations, the most famous of which included running a million volts of electricity through his body.2 Although Gilbert and Hendershot both offer compelling and useful histories of MIS and of Moon's career as a technologically savvy Christian filmmaker, much of the MIS film catalog remains unexplored and the nature of MIS's infiltration of the mid-century secular classroom has been especially obfuscated.3 The Moody Bible Institute still circulates some of Moon's films in video format, largely for use in home-schooling environments, and it is these films that have been the primary focus of previous scholarship, largely, we suspect, due to the difficulty, until recently, of accessing reference copies of the vast majority of MIS's educational films that were marketed to mainstream educators in the 1950s and beyond.4 Although their specific impact on recent ideological and litigious battles over the teaching of evolution and the introduction of intelligent design into the classroom may be difficult to surmise, evidence certainly attests to the staggeringly wide circulation of MIS films in the postwar era of across-the-board escalation in classroom film usage.5 Gilbert notes that MIS records for 1947 and 1948 indicate an audience of 2.5 million for its three circulating films.6 In 1950 Ken Hughes, writing for The Chaplain, comments that "here and abroad, almost a million people during one short year crowded into high schools, universities, and military bases as well as churches to glimpse the [MIS] films," and Hendershot claims that "by 1956, MIS films were used in 389 school systems in 46 states."7 The wide circulation of these films was at least in part inspired by a larger political context: motivated by anxieties over both communist educational trends and the [End Page 2] perceived needs of the atomic age, films entered science classrooms at unprecedented rates in the post–World War II era, which found a surplus of audiovisual equipment making its way into public schools.8 Articles in Educational Screen (which became Educational Screen & Audio-Visual Guide in September 1956), the industry's leading trade publication, attest to the sense of urgency that inspired the proliferation of film use in the 1950s classroom. An October 1956 article by Henry Chauncey, "Film Is the Answer," proclaims in bold: "Competition for new graduates in science and engineering is tremendous. Even more serious is the very rapid rate at which Communists may be gaining on us in technological fields." Chauncey's answer? "The use of sound films and educational television to take over the basic instructional part of...}, number={1}, journal={The Moving Image}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha. and Elsheimer, Skip.}, year={2007}, pages={1–26} }
 @article{orgeron_orgeron_2007, title={Familial Pursuits, Editorial Acts: Documentaries after the Age of Home Video}, volume={60}, ISSN={1542-4251}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/vlt.2007.0023}, DOI={10.1353/vlt.2007.0023}, abstractNote={ince the 1990s a significant number of documentaries have been produced that rely heavily upon primary footage taken by the subject(s) of the documentaries over the course of their purportedly predocumentary lives. In films like Tarnation (Jonathan Caouette, 2003) the film’s subject and director are the same. More often, as in Capturing the Friedmans (Andrew Jarecki, 2003) and Grizzly Man (Werner Herzog, 2005), the film’s director employs footage that was taken by and of the documentary subject(s). In so doing, the documentary director assumes the role of editor and interpreter of a prerecorded, personal moving image archive that has already been edited, always conceptually and sometimes literally. This extensive use of home movies—home videos would be the more accurate term in most recent cases—signals a shift in recent documentary production, one that compels us to consider the implications of using home videos as narrational and illustrative tools, as conduits to history and memory. The representational and ethical ramifications of this recent spate of documentaries that rely on home video have yet to be assessed. What follows considers these issues by focusing on the current generation of obsessive self-documentarians and the 35mm, featurelength, theatrically released documentary films that have been made, at least partly, out of their autobiographical video records. A close but selective engagement with the aforementioned early-twenty-first-century films will aid in our S Familial Pursuits, Editorial Acts:}, number={1}, journal={The Velvet Light Trap}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha. and Orgeron, Devin.}, year={2007}, pages={47–62} }
 @inbook{gordon_orgeron_2007, place={London}, title={Megatronic Memories: Errol Morris and the Aesthetics of Observation}, booktitle={The Image and the Witness}, publisher={Wallflower Press}, author={Gordon, M. and Orgeron, D.}, editor={Guerin, Frances and Hallas, RogerEditors}, year={2007}, pages={238–252} }
 @article{orgeron_2007, title={‘The Most Profound Shock’: Traces of the Holocaust in Sam Fuller's Verboten! (1959) and the Big Red One (1980)}, volume={27}, ISSN={0143-9685 1465-3451}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01439680701552547}, DOI={10.1080/01439680701552547}, abstractNote={It is widely known that film-maker Sam Fuller soldiered during World War II, and that his experiences as a member of the First United States Infantry Division greatly influenced the subject matter,...}, number={4}, journal={Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television}, publisher={Informa UK Limited}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2007}, month={Oct}, pages={471–496} }
 @article{gordon_2006, title={How Much Reality Can You Handle? Full Frame Documentary Festival}, journal={Raleigh Hatchet}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2006}, month={Apr} }
 @article{orgeron_2006, title={LIBERATING IMAGES? Samuel Fuller's Film of Falkenau Concentration Camp}, volume={60}, ISSN={0015-1386 1533-8630}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1525/fq.2006.60.2.38}, DOI={10.1525/fq.2006.60.2.38}, abstractNote={ABSTRACT This article examines a neglected but important film from Samuel Fuller's formative years: the 16mm footage he shot in 1945, depicting a funeral ritual following his infantry division's liberation of Falkenau concentration camp. The footage provides a fascinating glimpse into the director's past and into World War II history.}, number={2}, journal={Film Quarterly}, publisher={University of California Press}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2006}, pages={38–47} }
 @inbook{gordon_2005, title={"Divine Teachings.” Alexander Bogardy}, booktitle={Divine Aesthete exhibit catalogue}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2005}, month={Oct} }
 @article{gordon_2005, title={Review essay of African Americans in Cinema CD-Rom}, volume={3}, number={1}, journal={Contours: A Journal of the African Diaspora}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2005}, pages={119–126} }
 @article{gordon_2004, title={A How-to in Grassroots Political Filmmaking}, journal={Technician}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2004}, month={Oct}, pages={5–6} }
 @article{gordon_2004, title={Alexander Bogardy: Singular Pursuits.” With Peggy Parsons, National Gallery of Art}, journal={Folk Art, the magazine of the American Folk Art Museum}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2004}, pages={62–67} }
 @article{gordon_parsons_2003, title={Alexander Bogardy: The Union of Divinity, Cosmetology & Art}, volume={16}, number={2}, journal={Folk Art Messenger}, publisher={National Gallery of Art}, author={Gordon, M. and Parsons, P.}, year={2003}, pages={8–12} }
 @inbook{gordon_2003, place={London}, title={Happiness}, booktitle={1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die}, publisher={Quintet}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2003}, pages={891} }
 @article{orgeron_2003, title={Making It in Hollywood: Clara Bow, Fandom, and Consumer Culture}, volume={42}, ISSN={1527-2087}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/cj.2003.0020}, DOI={10.1353/cj.2003.0020}, abstractNote={
Fan magazines had a dramatic impact on actress Clara Bow's
career and on female fandom more generally. This article examines Bow's
1927 star vehicle It as a parable for fan culture, particularly
for the ways that fan magazines constructed their female readers and
Hollywood films addressed their female spectators.

}, number={4}, journal={Cinema Journal}, publisher={Project Muse}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2003}, pages={76–97} }
 @inbook{gordon_2003, place={London}, title={Now, Voyager}, booktitle={1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die}, publisher={Quintet}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2003}, pages={183} }
 @article{orgeron_2003, title={Rethinking Authorship: Jack London and the Motion Picture Industry}, volume={75}, ISSN={0002-9831 1527-2117}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1215/00029831-75-1-91}, DOI={10.1215/00029831-75-1-91}, abstractNote={In the middle of June 1913, a person in New York City who wanted to see a moving picture ‘‘installation’’ or ‘‘exhibit,’’ as they were often called, would have had several choices: the eightreel Italian spectacle Quo Vadis at the Astor Theatre, Thomas Ince’s five-reel The Battle of Gettysburg at the Grand Opera House, Captain Scott’s South Pole pictures at the Lyric, or Jack London’s Adventures in the South Sea Islands at the Criterion, a Broadway playhouse.1 A person who chose the Criterion for one of its twice daily screenings of the London film would have seen, as the title promises, exotic views of the South Sea Islands while listening to Martin Johnson, who accompanied London on his journey and was credited with making the film, provide a lecture describing the images. Press accounts of the day indicate that seeing the film would have been an exciting, worthwhile experience, despite the fact that London, whose name was a valuable commodity by 1913, appears to have played no significant part in the final product. One advertisement’s detailed synopsis of the film, for example, implies London’s on-screen presence only once; moreover, Johnson appears to have taken most of his footage after London and his wife, Charmian London, had returned home.2 Although the public’s desire to see London at work, both as author and American adventurer, had intensified over the course of the early 1900s, his absence from the film was surprisingly not an issue in the press coverage, which failed to mention it at all. In fact, reporters seemed most impressed by the film’s realism and its uncanny verification of the unfamiliar rituals of the ‘‘noncivilized’’ world. On 16 June 1913, the Morning Telegraph reported that viewers}, number={1}, journal={American Literature}, publisher={Duke University Press}, author={Orgeron, Marsha}, year={2003}, month={Mar}, pages={91–117} }
 @inbook{gordon_2003, place={Westport, CT}, title={The Road to Nowhere: Stephen Crane’s Maggie: A Girl of the Streets}, booktitle={Women in Literature: Evaluating Fiction for Gender Bias}, publisher={Greenwood Publishing}, author={Gordon, M.}, editor={Fisher, Jerilyn and Silber, EllenEditors}, year={2003}, pages={185–187} }
 @article{gordon_orgeron_2001, title={Eating Their Words: Consuming Class a la Chaplin and Keaton}, volume={28}, number={1}, journal={College Literature}, author={Gordon, M. and Orgeron, D.}, year={2001}, month={Jan}, pages={84–104} }
 @article{gordon_2000, title={Interventions: An Interview with Isaac Julien}, number={9/10}, journal={COIL (UK)}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={2000}, month={Dec} }
 @article{gordon_2000, title={“What makes a girl who looks like that get mixed up in science?”;: Gender in Sam Fuller's films of the 1950s}, volume={17}, ISSN={1050-9208 1543-5326}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/10509200009361476}, DOI={10.1080/10509200009361476}, abstractNote={Samuel Fuller's well known definition of the cinema in Jean Luc Godard's Pierrot le Fou (1965)—"Film is a battleground: love, hate, action, violence, death... In a word emotion"—provides an interesting springboard for this analysis of the nature of gender and relationships in not just his films of the 1950s, but throughout his career. It is precisely this cinematic duality that marks Fuller's cinematic practice as a practice in battle with itself, as attempting to reconcile violence and desire. In Fuller's most obviously "hot" war films, The Steel Helmet (1950) and The Big Red One (1980), war itself is defined as chaos. In these films, separated by thirty years in their production, chaos itself is a largely male problem to be worked out amongst men; female characters are not-so-curiously absent in both of these pictures. With the mise-en-scène of the literal battleground in place, there is little room for a female presence. All emotion—particularly love—is, quite simply, between men on the front. The soldiers in all of Fuller's 1950s and early 1960s films (whether literal, in the case of Verboten!, Hell and High Water, and China Gate, or symbolic, as in the case of Pickup on South Street and Underworld USA) are faced with a simultaneously disruptive and desirable component—the female body. Men are in part defined in these films by their ability to move between the spheres of the hyper-masculine and the heterosexual/domestic. These films depict the male protagonist's attempts to make sense of these two worlds and his responsibility to each. The masculine preoccupation with war, "the enemy," revenge, pride, thievery and/or patriotism must be abandoned as requisite phases in the cycle of male existence in order to move on to less onanistic and more proper realms of heterosexual desire. Underworld USA (1961) is an oddity within this logic precisely because it ends with the death of the male protagonist before a proper consummation of heterosexual desire—a death at the hands of the male "corporation" upon which Tolly}, number={1}, journal={Quarterly Review of Film and Video}, publisher={Informa UK Limited}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={2000}, month={Mar}, pages={1–17} }
 @article{gordon_1999, title={Onward Kitchen Soldiers: Mobilizing the Domestic During World War I}, volume={29}, ISSN={0007-7720 1710-114X}, url={http://dx.doi.org/10.3138/cras-029-02-03}, DOI={10.3138/cras-029-02-03}, abstractNote={ Hear the bugle call, The Call to those who stay at home; You are soldiers all, Though you may never cross the foam. . . During World War I, social mobility was promised to American women through governmental propaganda campaigns that became the basis for a cultural re-imagining of women's social roles. On a national level, the Amer- ican home and the women who purportedly ran the American home became crucial components in the mobilization of allied forces. The various propa- ganda materials that bombarded American women in the late teens of this century served to enlighten and direct. In retrospect, however, they also dis- close the often-conservative motives that lurked behind such aggressive campaigning. Propagandistic efforts to negotiate "woman power" into the American "war machine" operated simultaneously with efforts to contain this newly sought "woman power," creating an almost impossible paradox for the patriotic American woman. The Great War not only permanently altered the home but also caused dramatic shifts in women's roles both inside and out- side of that space. Using women's magazines of the period, song lyrics, journal entries, historical accounts of the war by scholars as well as parti- cipants, and the publications of various governmental agencies of the time, this study will demonstrate that the home became an increasingly militarized and commercialized space, occupied by kitchen soldiers whose call to arms placed them and their labour in a newfound position of national importance. }, number={2}, journal={Canadian Review of American Studies}, publisher={University of Toronto Press Inc. (UTPress)}, author={Gordon, Marsha}, year={1999}, month={Aug}, pages={61–88} }
 @article{gordon_1998, title={Cinematic Violations in Peter Greenaway's The Baby of Mâcon}, volume={2}, number={1}, journal={Enculturation}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={1998} }
 @article{gordon_1998, title={Review of Donald Pizer's American Expatriate Writing and The Paris Moment}, volume={36}, number={1}, journal={American Studies International}, author={Gordon, M.}, year={1998}, month={Feb}, pages={91–92} }