Johanna Blakley

Media | Entertainment | Fashion

Archive for music

Free Culture Forum

I was very excited to attend the Free Culture Forum in Barcelona last October: the event was quite unique in its effort to bring together a broad range of scholars and activists from all around the world to work together to develop guidelines for sustainable models for creativity in the digital age. There were some pretty noisy fights, let me tell you, but at long last, we’ve produced a great brief which, so far, has been endorsed by 69 organizations and key players in the field. Please take a look at the document and be sure to watch this fun video about the Forum and its annual entertainment showcase called the oXcars.

Interactive Music Videos

My advice to kids growing up in my hometown . . .

I’ve been utterly smitten by Arcade Fire ever since I saw them live five years ago at Austin City Limits. I’d heard their music on the radio for a year or two but I didn’t care for the Springsteen bombast, the cloying Irish folk undercurrent or Win Butler’s brittle voice. But live was another matter. It wasn’t just that the band made some effort to actually perform for an audience (all too rare these days); it was the audience’s response that I found intoxicating. In Los Angeles we have, shall we say, spoiled audiences who find it gauche to show any inkling of excitement about a musical performance. But even this chilly bunch was set afire at the Shrine (the old Academy Awards venue) by this wacky Canadian collective.

So I thought it was appropriate that Arcade Fire used interactive technology to continue that powerful exchange with their audience in their music videos.  Their latest, The Wilderness Downtown, allows viewers to enter data about the location of their childhood home: images from Google Earth are integrated into the song “We Used to Wait” to haunting effect. At the end, you can scribble a message to children growing up in your old hometown. I knew exactly what my advice would be . . .

The Strange Appeal of Well-Worn T-Shirts

Should you wear this shirt if you weren't there?

I got a call for an interview from NPR’s Planet Money and so it gave me an excuse to revisit a great presentation that Rose Apodaca, formerly of Women’s Wear Daily, gave at the Ready to Share conference.

One thing that Apodaca talked about was the huge black market for t-shirts, particularly rock t-shirts, some of which can fetch $1,000. Now that the exchange of digital music files has put a big ol’ dent in profits in the music industry, it’s sort of odd that t-shirt sales at concerts have become a much more important part of the financial pie. Every major rock concert that I’ve gone to over the last few years has featured a more diverse array of t-shirts than I’ve ever seen before. Inevitably, the one I like best is far more expensive than the others . . . and it also looks more worn in.

Why is it we’re willing to pay a premium for a worn-in look? Apodaca talks about the quest for authenticity, which is right on the money, but with concert t-shirts in particular, there’s another valence as well.  A music concert is a collective experience in one particular place at a certain historical moment. Now that we have the ability to grab and sample from the history of music (whether on P2P networks or iTunes) any time we like (asynchronously), I think we have a pretty deep desire to get back on the same page with one another, to experience music in the moment it happens. Buying and wearing a t-shirt that memorializes that moment signals to the world not only what you like, but where you were one night . . . and maybe they were there too . . .

A Little Smiling Summer Night Music

I just saw the fantastic production of A Little Night Music on Broadway (with stellar perfromances by Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch) and it just so happened that I’d recently watched Smiles of a Summer Night, the Bergman film upon which it was based. It got me thinking about adaptation and how stories move across generic boundaries and media and literary forms. I was struck by a profound similarity in spirit between the film and the musical play, which I had assumed would be radically different from its 1950s predecessor. The recent New York Times review emphasized the differences between the film and play, but I disagreed: both works found a way to explore the idiocy of romance and the surprising ways in which such silliness shapes lives. Both Bergman and Sondheim are geniuses at revealing how canny and idotic humans really are.

I was curious to find out what Bergman himself thought about the play, which hit the stage in 1973. I didn’t find anything right away, but I did come across this quote, which helps to explain Sondheim’s attraction to the film and the powerful consonance that I felt between the two works:

I would say that there is no art form that has so much in common with film as music. Both affect our emotions directly, not via the intellect. And film is mainly rhythm; it is inhalation and exhalation in continuous sequence. Ever since childhood, music has been my great source of recreation and stimulation, and I often experience a film or play musically.

I would beg to differ about the intellectual component of movie watching, but I love the idea that Sondheim made the underlying music of Smiles of a Summer Night audible.

Henry Jenkins, a colleague of mine at USC, is at the forefront of transmedia studies and I couldn’t help but think of his work as I was trying to piece together the relationship between Night Music and Smiles. Jenkins argues that the most successful transmedia properties take advantage of the unique affordances of each new media platform. What’s surprising about the transformation of Bergman’s movie into Sondheim’s musical is not the fundamental differences but the weirdly synesthetic similarities.

P.S. As I mentioned above, I thought Elaine Stritch was marvelous: you could never tell whether she was forgetting her lines or just pretending like she was ready to drift off into an octogenarian haze. I guess I wasn’t sitting close enough to tell that the long pauses in her delivery (according to The Village Voice) were because she was, indeed forgetting her lines, and some production assistant was yelling them out to her from backstage. Don’t you love how brutal reality can enhance a work of art?