I love Melbourne’s Laneway Culture. Really, I do. And no, you most likely won’t find me with an obscure-coloured Holga and my Oxfords traipsing along these little lanes taking photographs of macarons in velvet-coloured boxes or sipping authentic chocolat chaud. I live too far away for this kind of endeavour, but when I do get the chance, oh do I try.
But I’m here to engage with Professor Martyn Hook’s articulation of the reason behind the sudden emergence of such culture. And it has nothing to do with the quirkiness of them hipsters.
Night Vision of Melbourne, Australia
Melbourne seen from the International Space Station at night reveals its young history. Unlike the winding streets in older European cities, Melbourne’s streetlights follow a more planned grid system. Established in 1835 around the natural bay of Port Phillip, Melbourne is the capital of the state of Victoria in Australia.
I’d like you take a deep breath in before we continue. Don’t you just want to say “Whoa” but with a full stop instead of a violent exclamation point? I’m spellbound by the composition, the singularity, all perpendicular lines, unbent, untwisted. And if you zoom in a lot closer, you’ll see what I’m talking about with those laneways.
Professor Martyn of RMIT’s architecture and design described the superimposing of the grid not as a landscape function, but in fact, an economic one. The Laneway Culture is vibrant and unconventionally appealing, and that’s exactly the point. The very city of Melbourne, divided up by streets thanks to the power of the grid lines, is an invitation for commerce. What can be done there? What can be traded? How can these smaller streets be used?
And RMIT University works the same way. Looking back, RMIT had been a closed-off University, barricaded by a watchman who made certain that only students were allowed to pass through, specifically in Bowen Street. Nowadays, anyone can pretty much walk in, walk through and no one would give a water’s dam that they are actually walking through an academic institution. And why would they?
RMIT organises itself as close to how the city organises itself too. The University invites the city in so there’s the commerce there. And RMIT is surrounded by civic centres, much like the whole of Melbourne. Looking from Bowen Street, there’s the State Library of Victoria to your right and across from that, Melbourne Central. Up top is the Old Melbourne Gaol, and to your left, the City Baths. Sound civitas enough for you?
Practice
I loved the notion of “letting the city in.” It makes me think of the security issues that may arise with this pursuit of commerce; the value of the University as a whole in the eyes of both students and staff as opposed to those unaffiliated to it. The Laneway Culture (more of in the next post) and the superimposing of a grid on every new map back whence Colonial days because systems are a must.
It really does make me think more of the reasons behind the making of the city, and specifically, of RMIT itself and how I may be able to document Building 20’s significance in my future project.
Some in the list:
Economic Function
Commerce
Surrounded by civic centres – what does this mean?
Maybe Building 20’s exterior placement has some sort of significance that can be researched and further developed?
Does the interior of Building 20 have anything to do with its surroundings? And if so, how can I use this to my advantage in telling my story and representing place?
A reading, Background Noise: Perspectives on Sound Art by Brandon LaBelle distinguishes the “site” and the “non-site.” As such: the gallery (museum, exhibitions, etc.) is a “non-site” that functions as the place to house the “site” of the actual artistic work. It “indexes” the actions of the artist wherein artistic reflection and criticality develops.
Retracing a couple of weeks back, my class and I went on a little dizzying adventure to the Public Records Office where we traversed this labyrinthine maze of archived public records preserved at a calculated temperature and humidity (I found it rather stuffy) that are not exactly for the public’s viewing. It was a vast underground chamber of records dating back to the 1800’s. I wouldn’t exactly count this as an artistic “site” per se, but it was a site nonetheless; housing information upon information about Victoria from memories, events, records of immigration and shipping, criminal trials and prisons, wills, royal commissions, governors, probates and so forth.
It may not have looked like it with the organised stacks of a modern archiving system, but each vertical storage system holds a particular meaning to people of then, now and the future.
Practice
What I garnered from the visit, firstly, is the absolving of my preconceived notion that the Public Records Office was nothing but, for no better word, boring. I expected stacks upon stacks of yellowing papers of wills and events and policies and manifestos, and sure there were some, but there were more hidden behind those grey walls.
Maps, poison bottles, bullet once lodged in a body of a murdered man, the very court trial signed slip that happened sometime between 1800-1899; a vast collection of trinkets and goods that were once held by hands who are now long gone.
There was so much history in the place. It was a site of archaeology and excavation and it brought up a number of ideas for my pursuit in my representation of place.
What is place? As Cresswell defines it, a space that has meaning, a meaningful location. The Public Records Office advanced my perception towards archiving. It, in a way, presented a very documented index of the past, rich in historical exposé.
I’ve been thinking of creating an Application for my final project during the year and my approach is history and interactivity. More on that later, but the way the Public Records Office archives and houses information in its own unique way has definitely given me a bit more of an idea as to how I can historically approach my project.
First of the Creative Writing works inspired by the most disjointed first paragraph I have ever half-read in She will build him a city by Raj Kamal Jha (someone please get me a copy.)
je présente…
The trees offered no respite. A mother, rocking the child, blameless, possibly lifeless, scalding waters in torrents under her feet, which, not the child knew, would be the resting place, scorned, strong, limp, breathing still. When the pools of her green hue, sometimes blue, mostly sage, lathered favourably on every bite, waxens, whitens, disappears, like the colour of the moon, the howl of a distant predator, begone, begone, did the trees finally ask the question, may I cover thee, an outcry of the once-child comforted by a once-mother, no more then, remembered now. Breathing. The child. And breathing still.
Beneath her feet (or was it another’s?) was a long thin string of once the colour of soot, now covered in red that followed the trail of bodies amidst the mass. She fingers the material.
Strong, sharp.
It cuts her finger and she bleeds. And it flows in a trickle, like the colour of the boy who once upon a time lived next door, not crying, never crying, but the one cradling him, like a torrent, a deluge, of blood, blood, blood.
With a mind focused, the wound closes as fast as it opened. She takes the soft gauze from her back-pocket and she pinches, in authority, the arms away from the bleeding boy. Let go. You must let go.
Or he will die, she tells herself but not out loud. You must never frighten the trapped prey. Or they will flee, and take the carrion with them.
And her purpose is no more.
The deep greens, like a forest under the mountains, so green, so full of life, sees another life, this one, much older than the boy, stronger, sitting up, scratching, she falters. She is herself. The little girl. A leg gone, two, three fingers, caressing her mother’s bandaged head while she itches. Itches to help another.
Stop, she wanted to scream. Get away from this place. Get away!
But she must never frighten the trapped bird. No. She must nurse them upon her breast. And they will take flight, finding a branch for the ark of another’s life.
Like her, once dead, now living for the dead.
Her apron is covered in a hundred men’s blood. Her fingers, sanitised, cleaned, still smelled of foul decay of young eyes going still, of maternal hands limping as hers tighten stronger. She is an angel. She is mine. I see her in white. Glorious, healing in touch.
I will take away your pain, but you must trust me. You must.
And some are frightened. Old men grasping, choking, heaving, hands pumping, I want to live! Live!
She takes their hands and offers them life. Then let me help you. And she takes out another roll of soft gauze from her back pocket. And she lays it over their eyes.
And it waxes, whitens, disappears, like the colour of the moon, of gauze of white, and darkness.
She chooses them, whosoever has chosen to live. Not many, all children, some men, their crosses are no refuge.
An angel, once a child, where the trees were too late to offer respite.
Of death, now saviour. Of life, now dead.
I have pretty much collated my thoughts now. I’ve read through the readings, made notes, still some to go, but I am so ready for that Easter non-break to catch-up and blog like Godzilla on a rampage.
Disparate and picturesque, limestone and basalt are only some of the words used to describe the Old Magistrates’ Court that sits in old Russell and La Trobe street, always passed by. Flanked by “copper-clad turrets” and surmounted by “arched windows” tinted and aloof, listen closely: you can almost hear the thud of an age-old gavel compelling you to law and order.
When we marched through the, ironically, automatic doors – the conduit from building 1 – I was immediately disarranged. Some of the questions that filtered through my brain was, “Where am I?” “Is this real?” “Did I just emerge from a time-machine and dream-landed to the Renaissance?” Perhaps, if I touched the walls they would crumble. But alas, the musky smell of the carpeted floors and wooden benches that sat across Romanesque-style wall panels bespoke of a since-1884-old building that is more than passed by these days whether you’re a University student or not. It is simply forgotten.
But don’t let me traumatise the adventure with some sadness. Let’s revive it with a modern-day splash…
with much probing
– a short to describe feelings
She hadn’t a choice, really. She cannot simply walk away without fishing out her only means to photograph and collate. With a harsh pull and a muted capture, she ventured to a place she felt was something she only read a book of.
The space around her felt far from thin. The air was packed, almost suffocating in its age. There was a holy silence. Softened footsteps and whispered awes, she couldn’t keep her mind from imagining a magistrate walking these same corridors or that hallway over there that led to even more doors.
She felt intruding, to say the least. It was as if she was not meant to enter the vestibule of this great bastion of law and order. Her fingers ghosted over a marble-step that disappeared towards the first-floor.
She shivered.
Though the sun shone out through the arched windows, she knew, she just knew, that the place was haunted by the sheer expression of strength that was so romantically Roman.
Ironic.
But perhaps George Austin had wanted to leave the plebeians speechless after all.
If you can’t tell by my little short above, I’ve a real passion for the ancients. The entirety of the place is my favourite. But I have a particular fondness to this L-shaped peristyle courtyard, which I found – contradictory to Edquist’s muses who found it an “unusual” feature in an institutional building – was so perfunctory in position, only slightly odd, offering an authentic Roman feel. Austin, the great architect he was, really did a number with placing this courtyard here. For unlike other buildings that may boast the romantic interior and exterior of the age-old Romanesque, the courtyard itself is carved in the very heart of this stone masonry, thus marking the building as far more reverent to the original Roman architecture than of the other sites of the institution.
And this reverence is what makes mine heart cry a bit.
The State Library of Victoria has an extensive collection of photographs and books, manuscripts and articles with above photo being one of them. Entitled, “The Kelly Trial – The Scene in Court” (guess which court!), this photograph goes back to that particular moment I had when my group traversed the walls of this old court.
On the audience stands,metres back from the judge’s seat, there is a long wooden divider. Seemingly unblemished upon first look, it’s terribly easy not to notice the scribbles on timber. More like scratches, carvings, really, superimposed by some students’ ink. Tribal.
I tried to decipher some of the words but couldn’t. Most were faded, though still quite ingrained. My fingers ghosting over them, you could perfectly touch the grooves.
I had wondered if, in that room, where Ned Kelly was on trial, someone in the audience actually felt disinterested enough to actually carve graffiti on it. Something to ponder…
Nowadays, the Old Magistrates’ Court is cartographically known as “Building 20” for the RMIT-goers. Not entirely sure which faculty uses court rooms as their classrooms (and I envy them to the greatest degree), but as nominally clued-in, it was used as a judicial court, of course, and as stated here, then Victorian Premier Hon. Thomas Bent, promised the Council of the Working Men’s College (RMIT) that this court would become their main administrative building.
In conclusion, I wish to visit this building yet again but this time, with summoned courage, at time where it’s a little darker than usual. Melbourne summer, though Autumn now, still promises an sunny 7.30pm so it didn’t work so well in that regard. But I wonder just what else this building beholds when admiring it by moonlight…
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?
When I first started this blog, I had no choice. Locks and chains and quicksand (quick, go on your back!), I had to word-vomit induced thoughts from countless readings and philosophies to pretty much pass the semester. And I’m an academic-nut. I may be a procrastinator, but I get things done. Except perhaps, actually starting and finishing a blog.
So this November (after I’ve stuffed some chocolate in my face), I have decided to stamp out the fires of Mount Doom and venture on to the unknowns of blogging, blogging and blogging some more. Nerdy? Ehh.
I’ve decided to categorise my thoughts and actions as technically as I can. Here’s the tragic rundown to those who may be interested:
Who – well here’s a place where you can find out as little as possible about me in the vague-est way possible. I’m contemplating on introducing my Twitter somewhere here, but that’ll take some tête-à-tête with myself…soon.
Quips – the ‘uncategorised’ so whatever I feel like posting. It’s probably unnecessary youtube clips, glass-case-of-emotions gifs, dear diary thoughts of the day, journal-like entries and the personal but not so personal. Moving along…
Weekly Reviews – this will probably be both the favourite and the biggest challenge. I shall attempt to review whatever it is that fancies my I-G-G-Yes every week. From the let’s-smash-a-plate feels of my current TV favourites, did-it-make-me-swoon musical interests (and they’re ballooning to something great) and maybe what I felt about my cup of tea that day. I’ll mostly try to make this entertainment-friendly. I love a good movie/tv review. (Note: Every Monday’s the dealy-o.)
Musical Whatnots – a bamboozle of musical interests that gets me twerk, er, working , during the day, night and the in-betweens. Mostly a concoction of Jazzy splurges; New Orleans or the classic femme fatale soundtrack, Angus and Julia YES, lyrical, soulful, flapper dances; rockin’ to the indie beats, hitting up my 80’s love and anything recommended by wi-fi connected radio stations.
Technical Thoughts – mostly concerned with interpreting the nuances of what I’ve read or currently reading. This one will be a blast of a category and I apologise in advance if it seems misleading. Like the Networked Media category (explanation below), things found here will be a mix of philosophies and lots of thinking about the world in general.
Networked Media – it’s a bit of a collaborative effort between my pretentious uni-abiding self and the nocturnal call to pass the semester. But feel free to swallow the insights, inputs, reflections and brain-matter splattered in these posts. I’ve put in quite an effort for most of these and I hope they make even just a pinch of sense.
I’ll be adding in the Creative Writing category soon as I love to flesh out the artistic moi. But for now, these categories shall, from here onwards, be my guiding light as I practice my creative and professional writing.
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:
Anna & Elsa of “Frozen’ on ‘Once Upon A Time’ (Courtesy of ABC)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.
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:
Bolter, J 1991, Writing Space: The Computer, Hypertext and the History of Writing, Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Hillside
Steiner, A 2014, ‘Frozen’ On ‘Once Upon A Time’ — Pics Of Anna, Elsa & More From The Set, online image, viewed 20 October 2014, http://hollywoodlife.com/pics/frozen-once-upon-a-time-pics-gallery/#!6/once-upon-a-time-frozen-ftr/
Sundet, V & Ytreberg, E 2006, Born to Participate: Media Industries’ Conceptions of the Active Media Participant, ESF Exploratory Workshop, Lysebu
TheMediaDB 2011, Once upon A time ABC New Tv series Trailer, online video, viewed 18 October, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rga4rp4j5TY
Yellowlees, D 2000, The End of Books – Or Books Without End?, University of Michigan Press, Michigan
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.
