Understanding others’ splendour
Posted on August 1st, 2006, under Teaching, Travel
This semester I’m tutoring ‘New Media: Ideas and Uses’. Catchy huh? In today’s lecture Joan Leach was talking about how we might study new media in three ways: using the ’symmetry principle’ (maintaining a balance between claims that technology responds to, as much as it determines culture) in terms of ‘prosthetics’ (new media as extensions of, or additions to our existing selves) and finally their capacity to offer an ‘experimental individualism’ amongst users. I’m not sure if these are her ideas or a synthesis of a number of others. I think the latter, though it doesn’t preclude the former. Anyway. One of the examples she gave for the last one was how photography gives people the chance to perform their identity differently (whether as a photographer or subject thereof) and the wider implications of this on our understanding of time and of history.
Weirdly, this got me thinking about how annoyed I was at Splendour in the Grass at the ubiquity of digital cameras. Not just slightly annoyed, me: I was Grumpy Old Woman annoyed, physically irate, genuinely angry. Drunkenly muttering that all digital cameras should be banned, turfed at the door along with open water bottles. Let me paint the scenario. In set after set of great music, people who are there as part of a group now like to take a photo to mark the ‘peaks’ of the band’s performance. I’m not talking about filming a favourite bit of a song, that thing where people stick their camera up higher than the crowd (obstructing still more people’s line of vision) so they can watch it later (presumably?) and actually see what they couldn’t then. Maybe they send it to a friend who couldn’t make it, cherish it for posterity, or even put it on their blog. It doesn’t matter. I don’t particularly like it, but I get it - heck, I’ve even done it myself when I saw The Shins at Coney Island. At least it indicates some sort of relationship to and appreciation for the musicians that are entertaining you.
This other thing is different: the band becomes just a backdrop or soundtrack for the bonding going on between friends anyway. Sometimes an entire song can be spent taking photos with the group, and along the way checking and consulting that the photos are an accurate reflection of the moment, meanwhile there is no watching of the band at all, and there is much shoving out of the way of the uncool people who are watching the band to make room for the photo posse poses. Of course, one could argue that these people are just enjoying the band in a different way, I suppose. I just wouldn’t agree.
What form of individualism are these people experimenting with, other than a really annoying one, I wanted to ask Joan. I feel like Roland Barthes or something, or maybe even Walter Benjamin, curmudgeonly lamenting the decline in the authenticity of the aesthetic, longing for my life to once again be open to the sublime power of an artist’s presence. Yep, to me, this tiny example of pro-am, pro-sumer, DIY citizen empowerment or whatever the tech champions might call it isn’t a new democratic order, it isn’t a growing archive, it isn’t giving people the choice to document the significant let alone the banal and the mundane because it’s important, dignified or good. I can’t even use it to argue that it’s symptomatic of anything, like a wider cultural memory under threat from the disposability of the media we record ourselves with, as Plato did in Joan’s lecture. You know, it’s actually just rich white kids on drugs being dickheads, and not caring about anyone who isn’t in their club. It’s virtual reality, it’s a persistent elite that continues to be oblivious, and it’s in my face.
The only photos I took at Splendour in the Grass were these ones:
What does that say about my experimental individualism, I wonder.
On August 2nd, 2006 at 12:56 am, ben said:
I don’t know exactly how rude these people were being, but I’m thinking your annoyance is more that they weren’t actually listening intently to the “now-ness” of the performance, right? Taking this issue on its own, I simply would make a case that they really are “just enjoying the band in a different way”. Yep, I agree that there’s heaps of annoying things about Australian festival crowds, and I reckon they are to do with rich white prats on drugs, but for me, the use of cameras to facilitate microtribal relations or a lack of attentiveness to the performances — in and of themselves — aren’t at the top of my list.
Actually, what annoys me most about Australian festivalgoers is precisely the pretension of soulful “authenticity” that circulates in the history of local crowds’ appreciations of, say, Ben Harper and his ilk. (Sorry, my reference points are rather dated.) Those “chilled”, inoffensive middle class white fans who are “feeling the vibe” are really just looking for a cushion on which to park their own relative comfort and privilege, and can just fuck off and die, I say.
In the meantime, I don’t get your your reading of Benjamin on authenticity. Sure, his perverse thrill at the withering of the aura is only tenable for someone with an investment already in it, but you have to at least take his substantive argument seriously: the ways in which authenticity has been degraded by developments in the mode of production helpfully “brush aside a number of outmoded concepts, such as creativity and genius, eternal value and mystery — concepts whose uncontrolled (and at present uncontrollable) application would lead to a processing of data in the Fascist sense” (Preface, “The Work of Art in the Age of its Technical Reproducibility”). I can’t speak for Benjamin’s personal, affective experiences of appreciating musical performances, but surely your longing to bask in the sublime power of an artist’s presence is exactly what he was (at least programmatically) against when he proposed distraction (over concentration) as the most interesting mode of contemporary aesthetic engagement?
On August 2nd, 2006 at 1:17 pm, Mel said:
I, er, wrote an op-ed about this issue…
On August 2nd, 2006 at 2:56 pm, ben said:
Mel G: before I’m misunderstood, my point about Ben Harper was to do with certain qualities in more general performances of appreciation that resonate in ways that give me the shits, and isn’t necessarily about “people who like Ben Harper”, which I’m guessing that you do. That is, I don’t want you to fuck off and die.
Mel C: I’m interested in the relationship between your emphasis on self-publicity in the “15 minutes of fame” notion, and what I’m interpreting as the wider point you’ve made about the need for new ethical negotiations by various “publics” in the more general circulation of vernacular media (i.e. stuff that’s not necessarily directly self-initiated for the prospect of fame), and way this might interface with more official media.
Here in Hong Kong, we’ve had the Bus Uncle phenomenon, which became the most viewed clip on YouTube in May. The Bus Uncle himself, who did not plan his mass exposure, but whose outrageous behaviour was caught on cameraphone, has since accrued a kind of dubious, sleazy celebrity — he’s been paid by a magazine to obnoxiously visit hostess-bars in China and sexually harass the workers there, and has inspired all sorts of riffs in commercial and non-commercial pop-culture.
The director of the new media arts organisation at which I’m based in HK was recently interviewed as part of a current affairs TV piece on vernacular media and the Bus Uncle. (I’m featured in the background, reading blogs! Ha! I’m famous!) He made the rather sensible point that rather than getting caught up in the caricatured, hierarchical panic about cameraphones (whether “for” or “against” their “appropriate” or “inappropriate” uses), “the public” should be taking these kinds of events as opportunities for developing ways to ethically read. But upon reflection, I’m wondering whether his point is itself a form of displaced crypto-panic — can’t we read it (uncharitably) as a nice way of saying, “we don’t want the proles to be tabloid-reading trashbags or shocked wowsers — we must educate them to be responsible, enlightened and informed citizen-consumers!”? People’s own media production also fades into obscurity here. But setting aside “the people” for a sec: what about magazines sexually harassing women by proxy? How does that fit into the whole “responsible consumption” ethic? Hmmm…
On August 2nd, 2006 at 4:56 pm, melgregg said:
No offence taken: don’t particularly like Ben Harper and he certainly makes your argument. I’m still thinking about this, and I wasn’t being earnest in referencing Benjamin/Barthes. It’s not the musical genius of the artist I want access to, in fact on one level it is simply the capacity to see what they’re doing because I paid to. But in the process (and what I am calling the conditions for the sublime in this situation, but the point is a wider one) it would be nice to feel some form of relationship with the humans in my immediate vicinity, whether they happen to be next to me or on stage. When I hear stories about the behaviour of some festival staff during their shift, it makes me angry. It makes me think about responsibility and accountability. Moreover, it makes me feel that events like these are more about gaining access to and performing a particular imaginary lifestyle rather than an opportunity to engage with other humans. Yes, I am old fashioned - or maybe just old! And I think that’s why ultimately I want to see the bands. At least some of them must be jaded enough to see thru the drugs and the glitz (or the mud, as the case may be); and grounded enough to recognise that when they happen to genuinely move someone in the audience it’s a good day on the job, if nothing else.
Mel, just saw your piece which is great. ‘Life caching’ - that’s it. Although these Splendour hipsters are something else too. They don’t strike me as the types that want to be famous or online. They’ve already got the friends, they’re living the life, they show it but they don’t need to publicise it.
I’d love to see some data on how many people actually do *anything* with all the photos they take at these things.
On August 2nd, 2006 at 9:51 pm, melgregg said:
If only I was staying in Sydney another couple of nights next week, this would be fun. This is your guy if you believe it’s possible to capture something more going on at a rock show.
On August 7th, 2006 at 5:03 pm, Mel said:
Ben: The self-promotion aspect was not actually the reason I began writing this piece. It was more the ethical dimension of “life caching”. I was at this gig and I noticed this weird guy taking photos of complete strangers, including me (I usually escape being photographed at such events because I’m not thin/young/kooky enough). I was astounded that people weren’t more suspicious of what he was intending to do with the pictures, and that’s when it occurred to me that people don’t really mind what’s done with them.
So I started to go, “Why don’t people mind?” and that’s when I considered the culture of, not exactly self-promotion, but self-validation through online image sharing. I didn’t have the room for it, but I also wanted to make a point about how the ‘official’ media are increasingly reliant on the existence of people willing to waive their ethical right to privacy: ie, people who tacitly consent to any media representation and commentary by making their images public. It’s the thin end of the “user-generated content” wedge.
Another issue I’d wanted to cover, but didn’t have space for, was the idea that a photograph is a more personal and intimate kind of public record and thus its misuse is more likely to make someone feel violated than, say, mocking or misrepresenting their writing.
Mel: It would be so hard to quantify that. Perhaps you could cross-reference ownership of 3G phones with MySpace and Flickr membership?!? I just discovered another one of these photo services today, can’t remember what it’s called though.
On August 22nd, 2006 at 6:29 pm, Renee said:
” You know, it’s actually just rich white kids on drugs being dickheads, and not caring about anyone who isn’t in their club. It’s virtual reality, it’s a persistent elite that continues to be oblivious, and it’s in my face.”
You know, Mel, there are different kinds of elites that can also be persistent dickheads. Just thought I’d put it to you. Lighten up. Experience life your own way. Live and let live so to speak. I dont think this is what Joan was talking about.
Oh, and I liked your lecture on new media and workspaces. Looking forward to next week and blogging
On August 23rd, 2006 at 9:22 am, melgregg said:
Thanks Renee! Agree - there are many kinds of elite dickhead. I will try to be more forgiving, as I am surely also one to others.