I’d like to share some of my favourite shots of RMIT’s
Building 20, Magistrates’ Court
325-343 Russell Street, Melbourne
More explanatory explications in future posts.
p.s. I so took these (no sarcasm)
I’d like to share some of my favourite shots of RMIT’s
Building 20, Magistrates’ Court
325-343 Russell Street, Melbourne
More explanatory explications in future posts.
p.s. I so took these (no sarcasm)
note: plagiarising myself because I can.
Original post date: 14 days ago
I have returned from the land of the living and no, unfortunately this post does not contain a Vimeo trailer of a sophisticated thriller film from aforementioned title, but it’s relevant, nonetheless!
Second year university is just around the corner and I’m bubbling in a cauldron of giddiness because finally, I breathe out in deep suspiration, finally, the routine-learning, assessment-crying and busy-fun is back back back.
This year and for the first time in- I’m not even going to finish that, my course is implementing what is known as “Studios.” It’s our media term for subject, really. An elective specifically chosen in regards to what we want to learn about most. And here’s a hypothetical bag of gold for those who guessed which studio I’m in.
Ghosts and Spaces : Mediating Place
In this studio we will examine how place is conceptualised and represented in many forms across a range of media and how these are applied in a variety of contexts such as galleries, museums, archives and augmented maps.
I am almost always on a state of fernweh, feeling homesick for a place I’ve never been. Does that sound strange? My missing a place I’ve actually never been in? Is that even possible? I believe so. Truly. How many of you have watched a film, seen a television show, read a book that made you somehow feel like you’ve been there already but of course, you haven’t really, and thus, you feel an ache to return to it?
I’m definitely not the only one.
As a media-peruser, I’m curious as to how exactly books, media, print, music mediate place. Define it. Emotionally tag you that you cannot escape it. Those feelings, emotions that a certain place evokes. I love this quote from Tim Creswell:
“When we write ‘Calcutta’ or ‘Rio’ or ‘Manchester’ for instance, even those of us who have not been to these places have some sense of them – sets of meanings produced in films, literature, advertising, and other forms of mediation”.
(Tim Cresswell, ‘Place’ in The International Encyclopedia of Human Geography, 2009)
I have a similar connectedness to New York City, Rome, and Paris. I could name a hundred more countries, cities, capitals, but those three have been there before my eyes traversed the digital globe.
I’m to explode into my atom counterparts because who gets a chance to philosophise such a nebulous idea that is the sense of place? To test, experiment and play with all kinds of media forms and platforms in order to represent place?
Man, I’m burning up.
What places have you felt fernweh for?
An essay of the roles of audience participation in the media industry.
”…networked literacies are marked by your participation as a peer in these flows and networks – you contribute to them and in turn can share what others provide.”
I have a penchant for punny puns…
*Ally gets asked about her first kiss but boy is it complicated because le boy likes her and this other girl* (sound familiar?)
Official transcript:
“I felt like Cinderella… until the princess girlfriend showed up. Then my glass slipper broke, the pumpkin exploded all over me, and the gingerbread man found a wolf in grandma’s house.”
“I think you’re mixing up your fairytales, dear.”
“It was pretty…. Grimm.”
(Apparently I’m also into Disney shows that cater for an audience of “pre-teens and adolescents aged 10-16 but who am I kidding.)
What was striking about this innocent interaction is the “mixing up your fairytales, dear” because, it’s true. Ally Dawson did mix up her fairytales, and the heartbreak is only partly at fault. By whose authority does she have to liberally spew out an entirely new fairytale from an-already established one? How dare she connect stories like that?!
(Yellowlees to the rescue!)
Douglas J. Yellowlees states, “…the book that changes every time you read it, responding to your moods, your whims, your latest fetish is, perhaps tellingly, a fantasy that has never been explored in print.”
…until now that is.
I’m a big book reader. One of my biggest dreams is to one day become a professional writer; a novelist, amongst other things. The “changelessness” of a book’s text, bound up in its “fixity” is the main allure; the satisfying crunch after a whole day of lounging on your gluteus-maximus and ignoring the social world (Yellowlees, p.4). I quote myself, “One of the reasons why I believe that having a beginning and an end is very important to a body of work, especially when it is some sort of narrative, is how it necessitates arguments, debates and opposition” (Chiong, Mythographic). But I want to delve deeper into not just the paperback side of things, but networked media in general.
I want to explore the meanings behind what it means to have a beginning and an end; the convulated relationship of adding on to something that has already been established whether they be in books, movies or television. Basically, the notion of how Media helps to “ensure freedom of expression and to provide genuine opportunities for expression” and how the role of the audience plays a big impact in this narrative-manipulation. (Sundet, 2012, p.3)
So first, let’s refer back to Adrian Miles’ take on network literacy. He states that network literacies are “marked by your participation as a peer in these flows and networks” (Miles, 2007, p.24-30). We, as a network-literate generation contribute to this seeming enigma by sharing what others provide.
Let’s look at it this way:
I recently came across this television series, “Once Upon A Time,” when I stumbled across real-life Anna and Elsa photographs while I do my usual Internet troll (le photo). Now, I wouldn’t normally care for real-life adaptations (my heart’s been crushed with the Dragonball, Tekken and The Last Airbender adaptation – please don’t get me started). However, looking at the photographs to your right, and being incredibly anal retentive, I couldn’t help but be drawn to actress’ likeness to the animated characters.
As a member of their audience, my expectations are extremely high just by looking at one photograph. And Once Upon A Time creators, Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz share the same feeling of “not just pressure but responsibility” also (Horowitz, 2014, n.p.).
The Frozen storyline has a fixed beginning and end. We saw each of the characters go through their development; changing in ways as is necessary to the narrative. And if you’ve watched the entire series you can see just how much the creators have played around with the canonical material of the other fairytales. (I bet you didn’t know that the Wicked Witch of the West is sisters with the Evil Queen from Snow White now, did you?)
So, going back to my argument about how a fixed beginning and end is important to a narrative because arguments, debates and opposition are birthed by such, we have to look at the audience. Garcia-Avilez sums this up quite nicely:
The synergies between television and the Internet have brought about innovative ways of considering the role of audiences and amplifying the reception of programs, as interactive technologies transforming the way television communicates with the audience, and also increasing the opportunities for audience feedback and engagement with programs.
(Garcia-Avilez, 2012, p.430)
Horowitz, Kitsis and most of the main cast are active participants of the global social-networking site, Twitter. Through this online medium that can reach millions of people around the world, those involved in the television series have an extremely easy access to consumers worldwide, influencing people’s choices to fully support the series and the introduction of the new Frozen arc; garnering media attention from the public. This fosters the idea of Twitter as a participative medium that “facilitates the involvement of the public” in different ways including commenting, sharing, criticising and reacting to different pieces of news (Garcia-Avilez, 2012, p.431). Check out the stars’ fan-engagement if you don’t believe me, right here.
At the same time, the instant feedback from social media has become a “thermometer to measure the level of audience engagement (Garcia-Avilez, 2012, p.437). Their involvement “generates support” and whether it be the support for the insinuation of the Frozen arc as opposed to being against it, or simply for “visibility,” it still links back to the whole idea of how Kitsis and Horowitz were able to freely manipulate canonical material to cater for their creative choosing.
In America, the season opening was a record-breaking high for the series.
Does this mean that the marketing campaign was successful in garnering all the hype? Or are people simply curious as to how Edward and Kitsis appropriated the the popular, beloved characters into their television show?
Let’s look at the reactions of the masses in the basis of the “hook” of the story below:
Once Upon a Time – Rotten Tomatoes Rating
Season 1 (2011)
Season 2 (2012)
Season 3 (2013)
Season 4 (2014)
Analysing the reception for each season, we see a change in how the audience – from the average couch potatoes to the top critics – have reacted. The Frozen storyline emerged in Season 4 (and is still ongoing) and the critic consensus: “feels like a marketing angle” but it “shines…adding more layers to an already complex story.” Average users liked it as much as Season 1 though the ‘tomatometer’ speaks otherwise with Season 4 averaging a mere 64% compared to Season 1’s 78%.
What does this mean, exactly? Are the critics just that much harsher due to the exploited current pop culture obsession?
“We’re not trying to change these characters or redefine them, because we love the movie so much and what they did with them. We’re instead trying to surprise the audience with how they become involved with our characters and our world.”
-Horowitz
Mixed responses all over the internet. Some “abhor” the idea that the creators didn’t change the characters as much as they did the others. But as Kitsis says, “this is the most expensive fan fiction ever”(Kitsis, 2014).
Key word: Fan fiction.
The whole medium of adapting these characters and be given a new set of adventures and stories links back to the notion of hypertext, or in this case, hypermedia. The prefix “hyper” refers to that “extra dimension,” an extension of what is previously confined (Heim, n.d., n.p.).
Think about it.
The freedom to choose to do what you want to do with what has been given to you.
Both Horowitz and Kitsis wanted to stay true to what the movie has established. They may even have feared the idea of drastically changing the beloved characters as much as they have done with those already in the show. However, this side of the industry simply reiterates the idea of how the media promotes creative freedom.
The basic sum-up is simple: creative freedom in the media industry is empowered by audience participation. As someone who will be deliberately influencing the future of media, this has opened up a a nebulous network of avenues that challenge me to perceive media as not just simply a place for pure creative freedom without the audience’ consent, as evidently, it wouldn’t do well, especially if they are your target audience.
This study enabled me to not approach the industry lightly. It challenges me to think about the fine subtleties in the marriage of established, confounded narratives with the ever-changing interactive media. Do I want people to see support my works and therefore create that visibility I need for future broadcast? Or am I content in re-structuring narratives however way I want with no fear of audience reception?
In any case, at least I’ve both expounded (or hoped I did) upon the relationship of narrative beginnings and ends while simultaneously incorporating the impact of audience participation.
Touché.
References:
I’m kinda liking this whole 11th theme.
Thank you, Kiralee for a nice summary of the the symposium this week. Steph draws out the idea of our human need to somehow make everything a story; our ability to “fill in the gaps.” Is that an innate thing? Or are we just drawn to the idea of doing so as an act of rebellion against society’s deliberate vandalising of such concept? Deep stuff…
I would also like to admire Jess‘s immaculate organisation as she always seem to be up to date with everything. You go glen coco.
What’s more valiant than trying to get my artsy fartsy brain around logical structures, hierarchies and feigned knowledge of the medium I’m supposed to have all the knowledge about? I would like to whisper everything, but who am I kidding?
RFC, DNS, IP, TCP, IETF
Cue a new-mum Snow White trying to fix a whole town’s generator. (Edit: start from 0:25)
What I did like was the whole contributing factor to the misconception of the Internet as chaotic rather than highly controlled. Galloway states that the contradiction between Machine 1 and Machine 2 is the reason for this misconception. Machine 1 is our Medieval guy. Shared power, distributed amongst autonomous locales. A castle here, a land over there. A moat for you, some sheep for thine. Machine 2 is our moustachioed friend from the two-set of W’s time era. Rigid, defined, hierarchies, power, absolute power. Nauseating and slightly murderous.
If I was to strike a pose to define my understanding of the internet as a whole, it’ll be me on the floor fast asleep. I want to understand the intricacies of the world wide web. I want to flourish amongst all the codings and encodings, the historical drama that later on defined the millennia. But I can’t grapple this on my own.
In all honesty, the main thing I garnered from this reading is the idea that if I was smart enough to be that controlling authority who, hypothetically of course, wished to ban a certain country/continent from the internet just cause, I could pretty much do it through a “simple modification of information contained in the root servers at the top of the inverted tree.”
So if no one else is climbing that tree, I’ll put my Anna boots on and blocking your Kristoff’s out as I climb away to find my sister, er, power…
Neutrality. Ah, yes, my favourite Swiss word.
Dear Jess animated my vision, and at the same time horrifically made me philosophise at the worst of times by showing me the useless box kit that costs forty flippin dollars that may not even include shipping.
Apart from its appeal to the hip-pocket, I’m slightly unnerved. I don’t want to delve too deep into her question of whether or not this useless box kit is neutral because I may just dive into the why of its existence, which is basically, a reason to go against the unreasonable.
Think about it. Why would anyone make the useless box kit? Isn’t it because some stroke of genius or, in my opinion, sass, came upon the creator one day and with a flick of a switch, thought it funny to actually go against the laws of what makes this box useless. I mean, why is it useless? Is it because there’s already an existing thought of its uselessness and therefore we should gratify this thought by physical interpretation? Hardly.
I reckon the creator’s just a sass master, willing to bend the rules of neutrality, trying to find a loophole in the system by waving around this annoying box screaming hallelujah. To a vast majority, perhaps many would conclude this useless box to be neutral. But for the creator, not so much. Why? Because when you think about, all of us “have a relationship with most things which carry specific meanings.” And for the creator, this is exactly so.
I’m anal retentive. And this makes me extremely happy.
As an always-been-forever-will-be film fanatic now student (who would have thought), I’ve always had this desire to extend my cinematic gauge. Thanks to my father, who is a movie-lover himself, we’ve always had our fair share of video, DVD rentals; a tradition whenever the holidays popped by. Nowadays, my local video store has been replaced by a fitness gym with a horrifically exorbitant membership (when are they not) and the only thing you can watch is fat crying on treadmills. Not exactly entertaining and definitely far from a Lubitsch classic, if you ask me.
For too long we’ve been suffering the tyranny of lowest-common-denominator fare, subjected to brain-dead summer
blockbusters and manufactured pop. Why? Economics. Many of our assumptions about popular taste are actually
artifacts of poor supply-and-demand matching – a market response to inefficient distribution.
So here’s a jarring word: economics. Now, I’ve never been that much interested with the whole production, consumption, ‘produsage’ vibe until very recently and what hurts most is how I didn’t pay as much attention to as I should have in the first place. This is the ‘Jaws’ attack metaphorically and figuratively. (My good friend does an apt job of explaining my sentiments here.)
I echo everything. I’m flabbergasted, amazed, consumed, overpowered, embarrassed by my limited knowledge of film art. It’s almost appalling to look at my reflection on my TV screen. Everything is about the latest blockbuster trend. What makes for a good spin-off, a music video, a collector’s doll for the only dusted shelf in the house. No one attributes good movies with exactly how good it is any longer. I could scream “THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER” to both your ears via magic and either you’ll look across from me to that shop around the corner or you’ll think I’m half mad.
You probably wouldn’t even know that the movie is an 8.1 on IMDB or a perfect-score tomato party. Chris Anderson surmises this whole entertainment economy quite frankly and in all its verity. I’m a culprit of this crime too. I can’t not say that I’ve been and still is continually being allured by the latest Hollywood movie trends and what word of mouth says is worth the movie ticket. You simply can’t help it, nowadays. Or can you?
Are we just going to sit off the usual cinematic prose borrowed from every piece of blockbuster film for monetary concerns with salty buttered popcorn?
I may need water.
The first time my eyes came across the words “Potts Murphie Theory” I inadvertently thought of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans (le yes) and I got so excited… for nothing.
Well, not necessarily nothing. My goblet of dedication to Harry Potter just remained unfilled (is that a word?). In saying that though, here’s a line:
“…all technologies are extensions of human capacities…the computer is an extension of the brain.”
It’s never shallow waters when one is trying to connect technology with the human world. I’ve been a victim of such thinking and when you’re taking classes that explicate this notion, your head will do more than a 360.
What I love about this concept is just how basic it is. One really does not need to overthink. The computer is incredibly exhausting to flesh out. Similarly, the brain is too. Imagine trying to put together in a coherent sentence exactly how the brain works with all the nerves and tangles and electrical messages, memory storage, opened tabs for easy jumping from one thought to another… it is exactly like a computer. Actually, it’s far more superior than a computer. Why? Because computers are made by human hands, controlled by the human brain.
I can’t stress enough how serious I shall going to be discussing this in the future.
What if you had a book that changed every time you read it? —Michael Joyce (1991)
There was a section on Melbourne’s daily free newspaper, MX that spoke about aviation and design engineers architecting an aircraft carrier whose interior matches and changes with the stratosphere overhead as it flies by. Basically a chameleon of the heavens.
Crazy, huh?
The shaky thought about hypertext fiction not having fixed, tangible beginnings or ends as print books and stories, is not the fact that it’s limitless, it’s the problem that arises with the amount of free will someone has towards it. Douglas Yellowlees surmised hypertext’s dimension varying from hundreds to the thousands in terms of narrative episodes or segments which are also connected by a vast number of bridging links.
My personal problem with this, which I’m sure some other would echo, is the idea of exactly not having that fixed beginning and end. Let’s take a book known by all: Pride and Prejudice. If we were, for argument’s sake, refashion it as a hypertext fiction, I am more than positive that we would not have it lasting this decades long with countless adaptations in print, television, movie, new media and the web. A final conclusion and a definite beginning is the head and the feet of the body of narrative. Without these parts, I don’t see it moving anywhere at all.
One of the reasons why I believe that having a beginning and an end is very important to a body of work, especially when it is some sort of narrative, is how it necessitates arguments, debates and opposition. Does this make me sound like some lawless chaos-machine wanting all that disarray? Perhaps, but hear me out, anyway.
Debates, arguments and opposing views are all part of the inter-personal relationship we have with each other. It governs motivations for obtaining gratifications in social media, for example, because ‘you just can’t stand that “fandom” at all.’ It also births ideas better than the first said. If we had been able to manipulate Elizabeth Bennet into marrying Mr. Collins for one day and then Mr. Darcy after a week of arguing and so, then what’s the point? Our conversations with our bff’s would well, not end. We’ll say our goodbyes thinking about what change can be made next time we see each other again.
And the list goes on…
For me, it’s frightening in that respect to think of a book that changed every time I read it. Goodreads would lose not only its recommendations list, but it wouldn’t exist at all. Because why would one go to a website to recommend books whose stories forever changed anyway? No one would be liking the same things or fighting over the same character or giving 5 out of 5 cats for the fantastic ending or a thumbs down for its poor read.
Conclusively, everything will be quite forlorn. There’s no solidarity or consensus between groups of people. No book-clubs or favourite reads.
I like change. But not this kind of change.