The Imagined Audience

imaginedaudienceNow we all have the tools to communicate. Unlike the recent past, when the tools of media production were almost wholly owned by large corporate entities, now, thanks to other large corporate entities (like Apple Computer and Adobe Software) the average person (defined as you and I) can produce media that for the most part lacks any sort of audience (defined as actual persons reading this post).

So, my imagined audience is “you.” But I need to imagine that you are reading, but I also need to realistically assume that you are not. Many, many fingers are clicking away on keyboards attached to the Internet which results in much text that for the most part goes unread (and video images that are never seen).

Obviously this moment is analogous to the historical moment when cheap paper and simple writing tools became readily available following the spread of literacy (and the leisure time in which to use these materials to produce diaries and correspondence became available as well). The divide that seems to have dissolved – one that held firm until rather recently – is that which formerly existed between private writing (represented by diaries and notes) and public writing (represented by letters and memos and such).

There must be many terabytes of drive space dedicated to private writing that never makes it to the publishable space of the web, but this is invisible to us – the Internet audience – real, not imagined as I and others do see and experience public forms of text on the web (also images, sound, and video). But, the imagined audience becomes important once communication is considered as a goal. Communication is a zero sum game by virtue of the finitude of lifespans. There are only so many hours in a day of usable time to communicate or to participate as an audience.

I imagine that an audience of some sort – I have no idea of the number of individuals who potentially comprise this aggregate, possibly none – is reading this post and I need that imagined audience in order to write this post. So the productivity of bloggers – in this example – is dependent on the goal of communication with the realization that the audience is most likely absent or simply friends, colleagues, or family (which, from experience, lack the time to read much anyway). Thus, a comment on a post is a blip communication. Sort of a message in a bottle returned – across space, even time.

Regardless, the imagined audience is necessary. It moves Internet communication from the realm of the one to the many (the multitude as absence).

The Independent Film Scene (circa 1993)

soderberghThere was a time in the late 1970s when the term independent filmmaking was synonymous with Lenny Lipton’s book of the same name (Lipton being the guy who wrote the lyrics to “Puff the Magic Dragon“ amongst other things). For Lipton, independent filmmaking signified the micro-buget productions of filmmakers ranging from Stan Brakhage to Fred Wiseman. These films by virtue of their small scale economic footprint (Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu would call it ”restricted production“) could present their vision (ideas, concepts, approach, style, content) as the work of an individual artist or creator presented to a self-selective audience of highly engaged spectators. While this style of filmmaking fit with the model of the romantic genius artist that had developed under industrial capitalism (and, in fact, in response to industrial capitalism) it also represented the actuality of the process of production that these films entailed. A single individual could craft a film based on the industrial tools available at a quite modest expense.

Now, there seems to be some gathering consensus that independent filmmaking is coming to an end because the major studios are closing down the boutique studio brands that were acquired during the frenzy of the 1990’s Sundance style of independent filmmaking. For all of his creativity – and his film The Limey is one of my favorites – Steven Soderbergh’s cinematic output is simply a variation on the narrative techniques and tropes of mainstream Hollywood style. This is another example of the myopia of critics and viewers who fail to conceive of media as anything other than the conventional commercial approaches to production that are driven by cash. For the most part, independent seems to mean that the filmmaker needs to come begging for financial support, hat in hand. The end product remains similar in style and form to the larger scale production that is green-lighted with less trepidation.

Obviously, there is a world of media production that flies under the radar of mainstream promotion and criticism. It use to exist on video tape. Before that it lived on 16mm and super-8 film stock. Now it exists on the web. The heirs to Stan Brakhage are to be found in cyberspace. A romantic location perhaps – read William Gibson’s work to see how romanticized the Internet can be. The avant-garde as a political and aesthetic impulse was depleted long ago, but the underlying impulse, a resistance to modernity and capitalism, needs to be reinvigorated with every generation or we simply capitulate to the powers that be. Not a smart move on anyone’s part – left, right, or moderate.

Cultural Objects and the Essay Form

cropped-tateimage1.jpg Tate Modern, London, August 2008.

Comparative studies provide an interesting way to understand cultural objects (in a pinch, social ones as well). These studies allow one to perceive the networks that cultural objects are bound within. Obviously, an idea of networks of cultural objects evokes Marx’s social relations and other ideas about the relationship between productive entities, but what also seems to be evoked is a notion of the book of nature as a text to be read (a notion that Foucault identifies with the middle ages and the early Renaissance). In this reading of the world, each cultural object fills a position in relation to other objects in a tangle of meaning that creates a intellectual network as revelation. You know that you’re on target with your reading because the world revealed this particular meaning to you at that particular moment.

At the Tate Modern last summer, there was a video installation that featured Polish video artist Pawel Kwiek’s Video A (1974). In the tape he explores the formal properties of television production at the time.  The video features Kwiek calling camera shots and transitions from the studio floor as an unseen collaborator in the control room executes each of the commands on cue. The wipes, dissolves, zooms and such transform the image in ways that are at once illusionistic (at first the eye is confused, what is happening to the image?), but also each transformation calls into question reality of the camera image (predicated as 1970′s video was on a blurry, skewed image). Kwiek’s video links to the Western European and American structural film (Snow, Frampton, and others) in that the material character of the video medium organizes the content of the mediamaking in question. I found Video A fascinating to watch (and ponder).

I stood in the semi-darkened screening area for several runs of the tape while other Tate visitors flitted past, stopping a second to watch the video, then moving on to the large scale abstractions in the next gallery. This is not to highlight some superiority in my attention span or artistic sophistication, but simply to call attention to the demands that Kwiek’s work imposes on the viewer. My own interest in his work most likely stems from a restless curiosity of mind on my part – attention deficit, perhaps – or at least a nostalgic longing for video work that exhibits an aesthetic of extreme procedural constraints similar to the work that I consumed in great quantities while attending the Center for Experiemental and Interdisciplinary Arts (CEIA – R.I.P.) at San Francisco State University back in the mid-1980s.

Regardless of my own taste for this type of work, the video does seem more like an essay, or thought experiment in Michel Montaigne’s terms, than it does any other form of media (definitely not entertainment oriented forms of media). The intent of the work seems to be the main obstacle to a conventional viewing approach associate with what narrowly defines intentionality in media production. As we know as a rule of thumb, a movie must have characters, plot, identification, etc. Kwiek’s work reminds us that this scene of reception needs to re-addressed now that the notion of the “shock of the new” has become rather old. I never really understood experimental work, the kind of interest to my colleagues and I at CEIA, as shocking (though we were introduced to modern art through a reading of Robert Hughes’ text),  it simply suggested alternative ways to viewing and variant scenes for engagement with media. As a viewer of experimental media you did have to meet the work at least halfway, but such rewards that followed even from mediocre work! Seems that we’ve all gotten lazy of late (or smug).

New Media Theory and Documentary Studies

vertovimageWhat kind of productive dialogue can documentary studies have with new media theory? Mental Radio seeks to provide preliminary answers to this question, while opening up additional avenues of inquiry that can be brought to bear on both fields of study.

Most of the work being done in this area seems to focus on the consequences of digital technologies for production and distribution of documentaries or on the indexicality of sound and image. New Media theorist Lev Manovich’s work obviously signals one possible starting point, having used Vertov’s Man with a Movie Cameraas his conceptual frame for understanding new media as an emergent cultural form. But Manovich approaches Vertov with a desire to meld new media into the continuity of film history, while documentary film scholar Bill Nichols approaches digital media with a critical apparatus drawn from more traditional notions of what constitutes film studies.

Both authors situate new media within a frame that privileges representational structures typical to narrative, whether understood as documentary, fiction, or, even, as a database. This blog, while acknowledging the complex history and theory of documentary as it has developed within film studies, intends to diverge into areas more immediately conversant with many of the new strands of digital and interactive media theory – theories of gaming, simulation, embodiment, networks, and interactivity (this list is meant to be suggestive, rather than inclusive).

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