Manabe Noriko’s The Revolution Will Not be Televised examines the initial and continuing pro-nuclear messaging in the aftermaths of the 3/11 Tōhoku Triple Disaster from the government, TEPCO, and broader media. Strict control of the radio, television, and news outlets along with increasingly strict laws mean those speaking against TEPCO, the government, or critiquing nuclear power grapple with personal, social, and financial risk. Such restrictive pressures as well as cultural expectations of social ease pushed anti-nuclear organizing, cultural production, and information sharing out of shared physical space and into online platforms. Manabe shows how the movement between physical and digital space is always in flux – an artist may share an anti-nuclear song/performance on YouTube, which may be played by individuals in public space (collectively like the Frying Dutchman’s Human Error parade or individually), cycling back to online discussions and then to public performances. Space and power are both physical and digital, embedded with architectures and resisted in place and online.

Manabe thinks with Henri Lefebvre’s concept of a spatial triad, a frame for how spaces, particularly urban spaces, are shaped over time by the interlocking dependencies of 1) quotidian daily practices of people in the space, 2) the idealized images of how the space could and should work, and 3) the representation of the space such as planning models, policies, and advertisements. Lefebvre understands space as a product shaped by the interests of the powerful. The interests and practices of the powerful are then mediated to the masses through consumption of media, through sponsored public performances and events, radio, festivals. Yet, physical spaces are not simply ideals and representations of power relationships, but are reshaped and remade by the daily routines, activities, and claiming of place by the people who reside within it. One can simply look at the paved sidewalks and the unpaved but well trod foot-paths to see this shaping and reshaping; the planned and the lived experience.

Similarly, while reading and listening to the artists Manabe highlights as engaged in this process of negotiation of who owns the space, who gets to speak in this space, who can transgress demarcations of ‘private’ and ‘public’ spaces, I remembered the 2014 Bustle article Vancouver’s RainCity Housing innovative Bench Shelters  and London’s anti-homeless spikes. Both architectures readily expand to the ideals and desires of those influencing public space, to the representations of city life in such space, and the use of the space. London’s (and Washington D.C.’s) spikes discourage leaning against buildings, sitting under windows, seeking shelter; whereas the RainCity bench-shelters unfold to offer light protection from the elements and an address and phone number for housing assistance. Manabe, discussing risks for anti-nuclear musicians,  highlights similar management of physical urban space by the Japanese government – such as limiting demonstrations to a single lane, wide-parameters of ‘interference of public employee’ (bumping into someone) for arrest and detention, mid-performance arrests, barricades, and limited to no mainstream media attention (24). Lefebvre underscores while there are top-down visions and representations of a space , these visions are locked into histories and realities of the physical and experimental uses of the space, the lived-in space.

David Harvey expands these interlocked negotiations of space into realms beyond the physical space, including mental and emotional space layered within and alongside the physical. Representations of space have substantial role and influence in the production of space – meaning, as Harvey extends Lefebvre – that spaces ‘intervene’ through construction, through architecture (London’s anti-homeless architecture vs RainCity’s shelter project). These representational contexts and textures do not vanish in the symbolic or imaginary realms, rather are guidelines for how ‘thought’ becomes ‘action’ in that space. Manabe shows how the affordances of the internet – with the myriad networking, information sharing, and musical production platforms – offered Japanese musicians and citizens an alternative place to identify and analyze the visioning and representational architectures offered by the Japanese government. The ability to asynchronously and anonymously gather and share information and experiences fosters a community networked together online, which occasionally emerges collectively and co-located in physical space in the form of anti-nuclear festivals and demonstrations.

Manabe details Lefebvre’s spatial triad is present within digital spaces – lived inequalities in physical space can translate to unequal access, either in limited data plans, access to mobile phones or computers, and quality of internet connections. The physical architectures of digital access shape how users can find and connect with online communities; social norms and expectations of behavior align to the representations of space. Manabe notes that a significant percentage of Japanese Twitter users do not share their real names or personal identification – more direct and frank critique and conversation happen on Twitter than Facebook, which required a real name and seeks to digitally connect users to their in-person networks. Manabe is careful to underscore that power relationships are not completely re-made online; anonymous online identities are not fully anonymous – careful measures are taken by artists and activists to distance themselves from online persona in real-life to protect family, jobs, and social and financial standings. She highlights the ‘visioning space’ online can be co-opted and formed by activists within the digital space, but online spaces are not completely free of the top-down visioning that often occurs in urban spaces by elites and governments. Lefebvre’s spatial triad with the attending contest and representations, the marking and re-marking of who speaks, for what causes, and when are in ongoing negotiation. Manabe shows the spaces that shape organizing and critique has fundamentally changed from physical co-located place to distributed digital space, however the power relations embedded within place and place-making have not.