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Rowan

photo / Rowan / Thursday / video — Comments Off
19
Feb 26

Working on my own media aesthetic, it turns out

I bought some new lights. I wanted to backlight some books. The lights arrived Monday, hurled onto the porch from the delivery man’s truck-mounted trebuchet, for he feared my ice labyrinth (a yard of ice and snow, and a driveway still buried until yesterday.

Last night, I finally had a chance to open them. Two small LED lamps connected to one power cable. Lots of pretty colors. Looked great on the promotional website. The video and the inexpensive price sold me.

I opened the box, found the two lights and four different mounts. I also found this booklet.

And, look, light booklet copywriter, I’m glad you have that job. Those gigs aren’t easy to come by, but you should be proud of the work you did throughout. This is important, though: we’re not going on a journey. You’re going to backlight some books.

I spent some time sliding them between the bookcase that holds the Gloms and the wall. It didn’t work quite the way I wanted to. But the lights are fun. You can run them from an app, use standard schemes or develop your own, set a timer, and so on. They’re just the wrong size. But I’ve also got colorful corner laps, slender little things that stand 58 inches tall. So I took apart the frames, slid those behind the Gloms and, ya know, it mostly works. The new lights are now going behind other books. (I have a lot of books, I wonder if I need more lights.) And the look now mostly works! So I have one large bookshelf backlit. I have the top of another backlit. And my old 1930s radio is backlit.

The idea is to make it all the backdrop for video meetings. But as I tinker with the light settings and the exact locations, this could be the beginning of a nice evening setup.

I had an epiphany about the snow today.

I’m going to miss it. We have a sandy soil, but this is just a wet, spongy ground right now. And the grass is, well, brown, as you’d expect.

I found a bowl of candy at the office today. I wonder how long that’ll last. I have two colleagues that have a playful feud about peanut M&Ms and when I saw this, I thought of those guys. One of them is wrong. Peanut M&Ms are just fine. I enjoyed the peanut butter ones today.

It was a nice treat before class. In Rituals and Traditions, we broke the class into groups again. They’ve got group work to do and so group work we began. The group work is now picking up speed. I’m excited to see what they do.

I was also excited to screen this documentary in my Criticism class. I asked them all to jot down the name and impressions they had of all of the people we meet. There’s about eight of them in here.

Then we talked about all of those people. The documentary is about video game addiction. I selected this one because it is a bit shorter, but also because we could do this exercise. We could discuss the different points of view — the guy trying to overcome his problem and help others, his mother, two psychologists, a Facebook executive and a few others — and consider all of the ways that each are talking about the issue.

This could be a media effects conversation, and I pointed that out. We considered the different ways the people came about their ideas in a field of important research that is really only just getting underway. Finally, it is a study in expertise, source credibility, perspective, and authoritative voice.

I was pleased with that. And I was sure to sum it up in the right tone of voice so it sounded, you know, authoritative.

I should have set up some dramatic lighting for precisely that moment in the classroom, too. Maybe next time.

photo / Rowan / Wednesday — Comments Off
18
Feb 26

There’s always new material

When I write these, I work on the photo or video, and then I type away for awhile. After I type type type, sometimes I proofread them. (I … know!) And after I do all of the typing, I punch in all the little categories and then, finally, I write something as a headline. This, I think, is why the headlines are usually bad, and sometimes nonsensical. By then, I just need to get on to whatever the next thing is.

So let me explain yesterday’s title.

Working with new material, and old snow

Thursday of last week and yesterday were the first two days that I didn’t have to design a class meeting from the ground up. Oh, there are always a few things to update or add. That’s to be expected, and I did that last Wednesday and Thursday and on Monday. But what I usually find myself doing on the days before a class is building lecture notes, reading material, creating slide decks and also grading and whatever else. And by usually, I mean always. And by always I mean every time.

I’ve been running classes here for three years. In that time, I have had 14 classes. That’s pretty standard. Of those, 10 have been new preps. That’s not standard. What it is is a lot. New preps are time intensive. Three of those are classes I’ve designed from the ground up — even more time intensive. There’s a lot of thought, efforts, wrong trails, reading, course corrections, reading other stuff and so on that go in each new unit of each new class you’re developing. It’s easier when the material is there, like in some of those instances when I’ve taken over someone else’s class. Then you sink your time into that. But its easiest when you’re teaching something you’ve already taught. Then, you know it. Last Thursday, and yesterday, were the first days in all of my time here (and I’m being kind, because I could stretch this back to classes I taught in the teens) where I wasn’t in a perpetual start over mode.

It wasn’t all brand new because while I spent two days talking about fan identity and the various theories involved in my Rituals and Traditions class, I have used those in another class, and I only needed to refresh my thoughts. And last Thursday in Criticism I showed a documentary, and we discussed it then and yesterday, and I only needed to pull out my notes to make sure that I got in the key points. And then the class discussed the regular two stories, which is new, but just requires a few readings. My online class, meanwhile, I’ve taught a few times before. All the lectures are prepared, and mostly I deliver messages, keep things moving, keep people on track and, as in every class, do the grading.

This is hardly a complaint, simply an observation. Everyone sees the same thing. Maybe one day we’ll get it resolved such that I am in my own lane, carving out my own niche, and so on. That was the original idea, which has not yet been fleshed out to a plan. Maybe, though, we’re getting closer to addressing that.

Interestingly (not really), all of my classes next fall will be classes I’ve taught before. Which will be good! I’m ready for a little mental break. Just a little one. Recharge the batteries, read different new things, dream up new ideas, all of that. Of course, one of the classes I’m teaching in the fall is the online class, with which I am well acquainted. But that class will be taught in person. So I have to figure that out. And my other two classes will be converted from meeting twice a week to once a week.

There’s always new material.

And there’s always the old snow. If this sticks around until the weekend this will have been on the ground for a month. But there’s good news. It’s finally warming up a little. And look what moved in overnight.

Fog equals moisture, and that’s one of the things we’ve been missing these last many weeks. That and reasonable temperatures. Moisture speeds up the melting. It’s the heat brought about by condensation. So all of that fog is a good thing. We are no longer in an arctic desert.

Today I shoveled the sidewalk. That was my work break. I shoveled the sidewalk because we left it alone after the last round of snow three-plus weeks ago. We stood in the driveway, cold and tired and I said “Are you expecting any deliveries?” My lovely bride said she was not. So I said hang it. No one is coming over and this doesn’t need to get done right now. I stand by the decision, but I didn’t realize it’d be 24 days until I did it. Oh, widened the driveway. We helped dig out a neighbor. And I helped another neighbor find her sidewalk again, but my own wasn’t a priority. And then, Monday, a delivery guy did show up, and he just hurled something from a great distance at the door.

Not that I blame him. Who knows how much ice and snow that guy has dealt with, and how many times he’s risked a sprained this or a twisted that in these last several weeks.

Fortunately, the ice is giving a way just a bit, and most of the sidewalk cleaned up easily.

The cats are doing great, and acting much more like themselves. I was pleased to enjoy a great purring cuddle last night. Back to normal. Back to hi-jinx. Back to happy.

And, now, back to class prep.

There’s always new material.

photo / Rowan / Thursday / video — Comments Off
12
Feb 26

Ice Station Alpha

Nope, still not melting. Because it is never going to melt. Oh, they say this weekend. But this weekend will turn to next week. Just wait and see. And while we wait and see, I actually like this one, shut from the hip, but how the light comes in from the side is nice, even if I blew it on the horizon.

I always blow it on the horizon.

You shouldn’t put your horizon right in the middle, but there I was, admiring that light leaking in from the left, and there’s the horizon, right there. But this time it makes sense, see. Because I’m telling two stories in this photograph.

First, the sky, the clouds, and the light. Lovely!

Second, the snow and ice. Which will never melt.

In Rituals and Traditions we talked about fan identity and social identity. Here I make fun of Georgia fans, because they make it easy. We also talked about highly identified fans, and so I used this local TV package to introduce them to Roll Tide Willie, who is a wonderful example.

We also discussed BIRGing and CORFing — basking in reflected glory and cutting off reflected failure — and there are, of course, examples of Willie CORFing. He’s a little over-the-top as an example, but he’s funny and memorable. And, as I said, I know more than a few people like this. Fans are fans, after all.

We’ll talk about a different view of fandom next week. I’m trying to do all of this from the point of view of looking at fans as if we worked for a team, or a league, or an athletic department. A big question is, How do we help maximize the fan experience? From there, I think, this class could become quite rewarding.

In Criticism we watched the excellent documentary “Venus vs.”

It’s a 2013 piece, directed by Ana DuVernay. As she told the story of a tennis player rising to the peak of her powers and changing the sport, she was, herself, on her way to huge successes. It’s a good documentary, and we talked about it for a few minutes near the end of class. What can documentaries teach us? How, and in what ways, should we view documentaries. And how should we think about what we’re seeing?

On Tuesday, we’ll talk about some of the visuals in that documentary. Look at the way those interviews were captured. We’ll talk about media aesthetics. Why were the shots composed as they are? What do those shots say?

What does this shot say?

It says it is never going to melt. And if you think it feels like a rejected shot from Ice Station Zebra, I wouldn’t disagree.

Maybe this weekend. But probably not.

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10
Feb 26

Early entry for show of the year

Today’s joke is the ice and snow and weather. Periodically throughout the day, I’ve dropped a random observation about it in the middle of conversation. I look around soberly. No one is watching, but this part of the performance is for me, a half-trained method actor, so that I may immerse myself in the role, as Stanislavski would want.

And then, with a fixed look upon my face, and in a sincere, likeable, confidential tone, I interject, “This snow and ice is never going to melt.”

Because it is never going to melt.

I’m also doing this out of the blue.

It’s not a funny joke the first time, but after three or four rounds it started hitting every time. And I can do this bit for a while, because it is never going to melt. Oh some of it may disappear this weekend, if the long range forecast is to be believed. It has been suggested in a tantalizing display of numbers, that we might enjoy something like almost 48 consecutive hours above freezing. I don’t believe it, and, yes, I have some method acting about that, too.

We talked about the Super Bowl in Rituals and Traditions today. Talked about the game for a few moments, but we watched the opening vignette and I tried to get them to think about what the production was trying to tell us here.

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Then we talked about the halftime show for about 25 minutes. And then we discussed the postgame show, and it occurred to me: I never had a class like this, and while the productions back then aren’t as epic as they are today, I wish I had a had class where we walked in and talked about stuff like this.

We talked about interesting and important things, but this was a Tuesday lecture, and how fun is that?

Finally, I brought it back to the halftime show. Some 120-130 million people (the solid numbers should be out tomorrow) watched. Why did the NFL book Bad Bunny?

It’s good business, of course. We have here the world’s most successful musician — 16 Grammy nominations, six wins, 17 Latin Grammy Awards, 113 songs in the Billboard Hot 100, 41 in the top 40 and 12 in the top 10, while having also been the most heavily streamed artist in four of the last six years — playing to one of the world’s largest television audiences. And the NFL wants to expand it’s audience. They’re playing nine games overseas next year. Bad Bunny, meanwhile, was just recently the most heavily streamed musician in China. Plus, younger audiences, women, there’s plenty of crossover to explore.

Someone said: controversy. And, sure, controversy sells. We’d been talking symbolism and messaging for a half hour or so by then. I put this on the screen. Isn’t it something, I said, when this is controversial?

In today’s installment of the criticism class, we discussed a story that was, I thought, one of the more interesting pieces from 2024. I wanted the class to see the mechanics of how the writer wrote about the mechanics of deaf soccer. I played when I was a kid, and when I first saw this story I thought, “How do they do that?” Soccer is basically played, and communicated, from behind you. But if no one can hear …

Soccer — and life — through the eyes of the U.S. deaf women’s national team

The first thing to know about deaf soccer is that it is soccer, and a match looks the same as at any level of the sport.

Instead of a loud, profanity-laced pregame speech from the most extroverted leader on the team, players gather in a circle and execute a synchronized movement of quick fist bumps and back-of-hand slaps. During the game, the center official raises a flag in addition to blowing their whistle for fouls and stoppages of play, and games are typically quieter than the average match that features more verbal communication.

From a technical standpoint, players must have hearing loss of at least 55 decibels in their “better ear” to qualify to play deaf soccer and, crucially, hearing aids are not allowed in games, ensuring all players are on a level playing field.

On a hearing team, communication often comes from the back. The goalkeeper and defenders see everything in front of them and can direct their teammates accordingly — and verbally.

“For us, that’s not possible, that’s not realistic,” Andrews says.

The process is more about inherent understanding and movement as a team. If a forward pushes high to chase a ball, everyone behind her must follow. Halftime or injury breaks become more important, Andrews says, because they represent rare opportunities to look at each other as a group.

We also discussed this piece on the NWSL’s sexual abuse settlement. I find it somewhere between a process piece and a rote recap from someone, Meg Linehan, who’s been all over the story for a long while now. It’s a straightforward news story, and we need a lot of those. In this case, it allowed us to discuss how you can make that determination from the first three paragraphs.

The NWSL will create a $5 million player compensation fund as part of a settlement regarding its role in widespread allegations of abuse.

The settlement, announced on Wednesday, ends a joint investigation by the attorneys general (AGs) of the District of Columbia, Illinois and New York concerning systemic abuse across the league and potential violations of state and local human rights laws.

The three offices, as with the investigation by former U.S. Attorney General Sally Yates and the joint investigation by the NWSL and its players association that came before them, focused on “pervasive sexual harassment and abuse by coaches against players” and systematic failures by the league to “exercise adequate insight, institute workplace antidiscrimination policies, or appropriately respond to complaints,” as listed in the settlement agreement.

Then we talked about what’s not there. And we talked about the visuals included with the story. I had a different perspective on the photos than they did. I need to make a more distinctive point about that the next time it comes up.

And here’s the sun going down, from our 6th floor almost-corner office.

That was 5:37 p.m., proof that the days are getting longer. There’s some solace in that.

… This snow and ice is never going to melt.

We left at just about that time, because who wants to stay longer than that? Also, we had somewhere to be.

So we went over the river, and got to the arena just in time to see The Head and the Heart. I didn’t even know they were going to be there until they started playing this song while we were walking through the concourse, meaning we had to get to our seats.

That was a platinum single in 2011. And despite some early success — and a habit of getting songs on soundtracks — they’ve stuck to their indie Americana roots. Delightfully enthusiastic for their art, and quirky in their performance.

They make for an energetic opener, which was great, because backstage, Brandi Carlile was waiting for her turn. She was fresh off singing “America the Beautiful” at the Super Bowl and, this very night, beginning her first arena tour. While the curtain was up, they played Madonna through the PA. And then they lowered the lights, and light the stage and curtain like this.

At the right moment in that first song the curtain fell and there was the whole band and this circular shot of the singer before revealing to us that she was, in fact, eclipsing the sun.

That’d be a little much, but Brandi Carlile is an exceptional performer. Each song made for a different style of visual treatment on the stage screen. And, from this, I have inferred that we are returning to an era of 1990s liner notes, which also looked like an earlier era of vinyl art. Suits me just fine.

Early in the set they did request gimmick. Years ago, she said, they did a tour like this. So this should be no sweat. It’s a deep cut of a tune they recorded 20 years ago, and apparently haven’t played live in a long time. Not that you’d know. She was 24 when she recorded this. It sounds like it. Still works. Still a great song.

She also did a cover of a Linda Rondstadt classic. And then a bunch of her rock tunes and a lot of her Americana. She also covered an Alanis Morissette song and it was so good that, according to American and Canadian law, Morissette can’t sing it anymore, because it belongs to Brandi Carlile now.

Vanity Fair once wrote a review saying her voice is the eighth wonder of the world. If that’s overstating it, it isn’t overstating it by much. See her if you can. That was a fantastic show. I want to go back again right now.

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5
Feb 26

Left, on a jet plane

Want to guess where I am? You can guess where I am. Here’s your first hint, I am not at home. Here’s your second hint, it’s a quick trip. Here’s your third hint, here’s the mode of travel. Or, at least, part of it.

We are attending a wedding this weekend, meaning a few nights out in hotels and restaurants and with one or two people we know. We’ll be in and out in no time flat. Getting married is one of my lovely bride’s former students. (This is the third wedding we’ve been to out of that particular cohort.) It is a black tie affair. (No pressure, other former students.)

We are also chummy with the groom’s parents, who are delightful people and I am looking forward to seeing them all tomorrow.

From the airport, and after an easy direct flight, we took an Uber to the hotel. The woman that drove was was just adorable and hilarious. She told some stories about some of her clients. And she let me lean into a few jokes about them. A little small talk with a southern woman is a thing to behold. She dodged traffic and avoided idiots and got us to our hotel.

We checked in with no problem, and then had dinner at a newly opened hipster tavern a few blocks away. I had one of those burgers that was overstuffed with condiments. You had to be careful to lean all the way over your plate to avoid dripping anything on you. Also, they had spicy ketchup which was, authentically, spicy. I don’t know what inauthentically spicy ketchup tastes like, but this wasn’t that. It had a flavor profile that haunted the taste buds, lingering there like a hint, and a memory, a smoke that won’t leave the room, a spice that burned after its welcome was worn out. Fortunately, I could wash it down with a glass of sweet tea. Another thing to behold, and I held it, right there in my hand. And then I had a refill.

Maybe another. Who can count such a joyous thing?

Tomorrow, we have meetings, and then a welcome party for the wedding. And some virtual work on this tiny little desk in our little room. It’ll all be charming, and about 25 degrees warmer than home.

We started working on a survey instrument today in Rituals and Traditions. I’m going to have the class survey members of the campus community. The survey data will, hopefully, help them in their group projects. So there I sat, keyboard in hand, typing up the suggested questions that the class came up.

We started as a brainstorming session. No question too silly. Well, may not that question, that question is silly. We wound up with about 40 questions. And then we took a pass through the whole lot of them and struck a few that probably wouldn’t help too much. We re-framed some of the questions to shape them up a bit better. And now I have to cull the 30 or so that remain. Thirty is probably too many for the type of survey we’re going to conduct, so I have to get this list down to 15 or so. And then build the survey.

Great fun!

In Criticism we watched the HBO documentary Fists of Freedom, which covers the lead up, and protests in the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

I like Lee Evans’ part of the story, because he seems like a fun guy. The best segment here is Bob Beamon’s record-breaking long jump. It’s a beautiful moment of filmmaking. Scrub ahead to 36:08 for that.

They called it the leap of the century, and it took something like 15 minutes to resolve the distance. In the end, he’d jumped 21 inches farther than the previous world record. (And the world record holder was in the field at those Games.) Beamon’s mark would stand for decades.

The whole documentary is well done. (Though there are some weird edits in the embedded video for some reason.) Released in 1999, almost all of the primary participants are included here. Bronze medal winner John Carlos, notably, is absent. And we’ll talk about that in class next week. This documentary, and next week’s will hopefully set the stage for how we think about documentaries over the rest of the term.

But I’m not going to think about that until Monday. For now, I’m going to relish these 35-degree lows and contemplate the sheer novelty of a 50+ degree day tomorrow. It is not that at home. Spring is about to hit, here, right on time. I know that because things will be budding by February 14th, when a normal spring should arrive. I know that because I have the curse of experience, which becomes an embittered thing in the second week of February and I see a low temperature of … 15.

At least, when it gets even colder at home this weekend we won’t be there. Until Sunday, when it gets even colder. But not here, and not right now.