Disco. The images this word conjures up for me include the shiny ball above the dance floor, Saturday Night Fever’s iconic image of John Travolta (a movie, I’m sad to say, I have yet to see), and big hair. Growing up in a Chinese household didn’t leave much room for cultural exploration outside that with which my parents were familiar. So, like in previous weeks, this is new territory for me. I actually thought disco took place during the 80s, which just shows how ignorant I am of pop music before the turn of the century... Echol’s brief description of the transition from the 60s to the 70s reminded me of a book I read a couple years ago called “Generation Me” by Jean Twenge, in which she talks about the current generation of people in their 20s and 30s who grew up with a focus on the individual rather than the collective, with the desire and drive to stand out, to be unique, being told from an early age that they’re “special.” Self-esteem became more important that productivity, and “A for effort” became the norm in schools. I wonder if this has anything to do with the cultural revolutions of the 60s, which brought out a consciousness of diversity and identity, civil consciousness which spoke to the importance of the individual, and resulted in a push for self-identification and standing up for oneself. Here is one interpretation that I do not necessarily agree with, but can (if I expand my mind enough) see the point -- my mom once told me that to come out of the closet (as gay or lesbian) is a very selfish move, as it is tragic to one’s parents. It is interesting to me that she speaks from a culture that is more collective (Chinese), whereas in America, hiding one’s sexuality in order to appease one’s family, save face, and keep peace within one’s communal society would be unfathomable in, well, the liberal, diverse circles in which I live. The continuity of disco on the dance floor is an interesting thought, especially since it seems to homogenize music - as Echols states, “songs that were easy to mix in and out of...began to dominate deejays’ playlists.” (Echols, pg. 9) Only certain songs that fit the beat and tempo of music were played and hence familiarized. Moreover, the embrace of the “synthetic over the organic, the cut-up over the whole, the producer of the artist, and the record over live performance” (Echols, pg. 10) resonates with the popularization of techno and electronic dance music today, as Echols mentions in her Epilogue. Electronic dance music seems to be the updated disco of today’s music world, even to the point of “discofying” popular songs into a style with techno beats and pounding synthesized percussion. Another interesting point to disco is that it seems to empower (at least economically in terms of visibility and record deals) marginalized minorities, especially black women, or the diva, with gay men as prominent consumers of this genre. Not to be grossly overgeneralizing, but the stereotype of the gay man as the diva suddenly makes more sense to me now... The point being is that it seems to me like one of the really significant things about disco was the fact that it is like a genre of subversion, a genre that was embraced by those in the margins - even the margins of the marginalized, as was the case of gay macho, and made the margins more visible than it were before. Echols makes the point that it crosses racial and gender boundaries that other genres may not. This probably says something about dance and rhythm as well... And just another thing I appreciated about this book - the historicizing and summarizing of gay culture in America.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wedding sounds
Reaction paper in the making...But. I meant to blog about this sooner. I was at a wedding this weekend. It was a beach wedding. During the vows, you could hear what the officiator was saying (for the bride and groom to repeat), but you couldn't actually hear the bride and groom repeat it. I thought this was interesting in that sonically, the audience could hear what was supposed to be said, but the sounds of the bride and groom were reserved only for them. Perhaps that makes it more intimate. Just a quick thought.Also, ever notice that regular TV is louder than if you have a DVD in? I have to turn my volume way up when I watch a DVD.
Monday, March 28, 2011
sounds at Diz
Explanation of title: According to a Disney cast member we met today, people at Disneyland call the park "diz" or "the park" or "DCA" (for California Adventure)Ok, on to other thoughts. Warning: Will be disjointed and not written very...intelligently... (or, eloquently) because I am very very tired (after spending the day at Diz), but wanted to get these thoughts up. Some of this is from today, some of this is from last month when I went. Pirates:
1) It's like a movie. Where each room you pass is a different scene. And visually, it changes with each room you pass. Aurally, it fades, but remnants of the last "scene" or room still seep into the current.
2) There are two types of sounds on the ride - the produced sounds (or mechanical sounds), and the "real" sounds. The produced sounds are the ones that are recorded and reproduced. In pirates, this means the voices, the singing, the bullets and cannon shots, the dog barks, the instruments. Almost EVERY sound you hear on the ride is a produced sound. The real sounds are few and far between. Mostly sound of water. Or, for example, a great combination of the two are in the cannon battle scene. Where there are simulations of cannonballs hitting the water. The sounds of the cannonballs are all recorded, yet they blast water up, and the water hitting the surface of the, well, water from whence it came, is a "real" sound. There aren't much of these in ride.
3) The experience is so aurally immersive that you don't hear people talking, unless they're sitting RIGHT next to you. And even then, it's hard to hear them. Very much like a movie. Which I found was really the point (John Hench, head Imagineer, seems to imply) --- actually, we went to check out the Little Mermaid ride preview in DCA, and the layout plans of the ride show each section as a "Scene". As in, "Scene 8 - Ariel's escape" or something like that. Fantasmic:
One thing really struck me during the fireworks. They play music during the fireworks. And the fireworks visually works with the music. Like, you'd see a burst of something or other on the downbeat, or a significant syncopated beat in the music. HOWEVER. As we all know, the burst you hear from fireworks occurs later than the burst you hear (which, I believe, is simply due to the scientific fact that light travels faster than sound). So the SOUND of the fireworks is in complete disjunction with the music. And yet, it seems like people don't CARE. It doesn't seem to affect the experience in any way, as long as the visual falls in place with the music. This is not only another example of visual hegemony, but that people are so taken in by the produced-ness of the experience, that there is a certain kind of deafness to the VERY LOUD boom that comes with the fireworks - it's heard but not really heard. The loudest sound of this produced experience is one that is unavoidable, and yet somehow forgotten. It's an aural signal that is expected to be disjointed, yet doesn't disrupt the produced experience. Main Street:
I have to go back and listen to this, but it seems like people are lethargic around 3pm, very lively heading back into the part (presumably after an afternoon nap) around 7pm, then restless to go home at around 10pm. I just remember 3pm being very quiet. And the produced music was everywhere on Main Street. Lots of swing music, some ragtime, some musical, marching band-type music, and the music is continuous anywhere you go on Main Street, although if you listen closely enough, you can figure out where the speakers are, even though Diz tries very hard to hide them and make the sound seem sonorously magically present. Jungle Cruise:
If you're talking about produced sounds creating an immersive experience for the audience, the Jungle Cruise does not do this. Especially if you're sitting in the back of the boat, where the motor is. You can't hear the guide at all. An example where real sounds overpower produced sounds and punctures (a bit) this frameworked experience Disney wants you to have. There's an interesting performative thing here too. Imagine being the guide and giving the same spiel for hours and hours on end, and needing it to sound fresh every time. Tiki Room:
The split between produced sounds and real sounds (in this case, the mechanical sounds made by the animatronics technology that moves the birds and flowers mouths) is most pronounced here, and the real sounds probably the most ignored. The mechanical sounds are really percussive, and very noticeable, that at first, I thought it was part of the music, and was thinking, "huh. that's clever. they use the mechanical sounds to add to the produced and recorded sounds to make it sound more percussive." Until the flowers started singing some aria-type number, and then (because I was paying so much attention to it), the mechanical sounds started being distracting and overpowering. But probably only because I was listening for it. Everyone else seemed to not notice it at all - it didn't alter their experience...or the experience Walt Disney wants them to have. Again, another example to check reality at the door, to be willing to look past the real and buy into the experience (and pleasure --- this is talked about in the "Inside the Mouse" book) of the park - the fabricated and constructed one - to only experience what you're SUPPOSED to. It's all pretty totalitarian. On a completely unrelated note, I realize that I can hear my neighbors' coffee maker early in the morning from my bedroom (my bedroom and their kitchen are adjacent) - and it has to be early because any later and I hear the faint occasional sound of cars in the street, which actually overpowers the very VERY quiet coffee maker sounds. And, when my ear is physically touching my pillow or blanket at certain times, I can hear my heartbeat. Sound travels through solids best, I guess. I mean, I know that sound travels through solids best, but I guess that's the explanation for the latter one. Ok, I'm going to bed before people think I'm completely discombobulated. Good night.
1) It's like a movie. Where each room you pass is a different scene. And visually, it changes with each room you pass. Aurally, it fades, but remnants of the last "scene" or room still seep into the current.
2) There are two types of sounds on the ride - the produced sounds (or mechanical sounds), and the "real" sounds. The produced sounds are the ones that are recorded and reproduced. In pirates, this means the voices, the singing, the bullets and cannon shots, the dog barks, the instruments. Almost EVERY sound you hear on the ride is a produced sound. The real sounds are few and far between. Mostly sound of water. Or, for example, a great combination of the two are in the cannon battle scene. Where there are simulations of cannonballs hitting the water. The sounds of the cannonballs are all recorded, yet they blast water up, and the water hitting the surface of the, well, water from whence it came, is a "real" sound. There aren't much of these in ride.
3) The experience is so aurally immersive that you don't hear people talking, unless they're sitting RIGHT next to you. And even then, it's hard to hear them. Very much like a movie. Which I found was really the point (John Hench, head Imagineer, seems to imply) --- actually, we went to check out the Little Mermaid ride preview in DCA, and the layout plans of the ride show each section as a "Scene". As in, "Scene 8 - Ariel's escape" or something like that. Fantasmic:
One thing really struck me during the fireworks. They play music during the fireworks. And the fireworks visually works with the music. Like, you'd see a burst of something or other on the downbeat, or a significant syncopated beat in the music. HOWEVER. As we all know, the burst you hear from fireworks occurs later than the burst you hear (which, I believe, is simply due to the scientific fact that light travels faster than sound). So the SOUND of the fireworks is in complete disjunction with the music. And yet, it seems like people don't CARE. It doesn't seem to affect the experience in any way, as long as the visual falls in place with the music. This is not only another example of visual hegemony, but that people are so taken in by the produced-ness of the experience, that there is a certain kind of deafness to the VERY LOUD boom that comes with the fireworks - it's heard but not really heard. The loudest sound of this produced experience is one that is unavoidable, and yet somehow forgotten. It's an aural signal that is expected to be disjointed, yet doesn't disrupt the produced experience. Main Street:
I have to go back and listen to this, but it seems like people are lethargic around 3pm, very lively heading back into the part (presumably after an afternoon nap) around 7pm, then restless to go home at around 10pm. I just remember 3pm being very quiet. And the produced music was everywhere on Main Street. Lots of swing music, some ragtime, some musical, marching band-type music, and the music is continuous anywhere you go on Main Street, although if you listen closely enough, you can figure out where the speakers are, even though Diz tries very hard to hide them and make the sound seem sonorously magically present. Jungle Cruise:
If you're talking about produced sounds creating an immersive experience for the audience, the Jungle Cruise does not do this. Especially if you're sitting in the back of the boat, where the motor is. You can't hear the guide at all. An example where real sounds overpower produced sounds and punctures (a bit) this frameworked experience Disney wants you to have. There's an interesting performative thing here too. Imagine being the guide and giving the same spiel for hours and hours on end, and needing it to sound fresh every time. Tiki Room:
The split between produced sounds and real sounds (in this case, the mechanical sounds made by the animatronics technology that moves the birds and flowers mouths) is most pronounced here, and the real sounds probably the most ignored. The mechanical sounds are really percussive, and very noticeable, that at first, I thought it was part of the music, and was thinking, "huh. that's clever. they use the mechanical sounds to add to the produced and recorded sounds to make it sound more percussive." Until the flowers started singing some aria-type number, and then (because I was paying so much attention to it), the mechanical sounds started being distracting and overpowering. But probably only because I was listening for it. Everyone else seemed to not notice it at all - it didn't alter their experience...or the experience Walt Disney wants them to have. Again, another example to check reality at the door, to be willing to look past the real and buy into the experience (and pleasure --- this is talked about in the "Inside the Mouse" book) of the park - the fabricated and constructed one - to only experience what you're SUPPOSED to. It's all pretty totalitarian. On a completely unrelated note, I realize that I can hear my neighbors' coffee maker early in the morning from my bedroom (my bedroom and their kitchen are adjacent) - and it has to be early because any later and I hear the faint occasional sound of cars in the street, which actually overpowers the very VERY quiet coffee maker sounds. And, when my ear is physically touching my pillow or blanket at certain times, I can hear my heartbeat. Sound travels through solids best, I guess. I mean, I know that sound travels through solids best, but I guess that's the explanation for the latter one. Ok, I'm going to bed before people think I'm completely discombobulated. Good night.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Andrew Lansley rap
On the heels of our genred, racialized discussions...white rapper from the UK. Talking about the NHS in peril. Awesome stuff.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
response to Migrancy (Kun and Ragland)
I found Josh’s article fascinating, and an interesting introduction for me into the world of narcocorridos. Before this week’s readings, I knew absolutely nothing about Mexican music. (and honestly, I still feel like I don’t know much!) So, I think this response will be drawing comparisons to types of music and situations with which I am familiar. The narrative style of narcocorridos to which the readings this week refers reminds me a little bit of country music - the telling of a story often centered around a character. With country music, though, there’s usually a moral point to the song or the story. Narcocorridos seem to celebrate crime and subversion. It is almost as if music itself is in cahoots with these ideas of subverting traditional power structures - women in the position of power with the example of Emilio Varela and Camelia le Tejana. Ragland paints a very interesting story of the tensions between Mexican and Mexican American culture - one that I’m rather familiar with as well, being Asian American and seeming “westernized” in the eyes of Asian friends, family, and acquaintances. The fact that Camelia was able to get away with murder and money, I felt, could be read a few ways. That it was ok because she was a woman, but not REALLY Mexican, and women are shady, subordinate creatures anyway, which doesn’t disrupt the social order if they deviate from it, because their position of less power. That it is empowering that a woman (regardless of nationality or culture) overpowers and outsmarts a man. That a woman had so much “visibility” or “aurality” - or “airtime” and given notice - that she was represented and given (quite a bit of) space in the musical narrative, that may seek to change the patriarchal hegemony. Josh’s article quotes Mr. Quintero as saying that “songs for peace, or songs about ending violence...It’s not what people want to hear.” At first, that seems a bit disturbing. However, if we take ourselves out of the dichotomized framework of good and evil, legal and illegal, peace and violence, etc, can we start seeing the world more as relational rather than as absolute? Ragland also alludes to the complicated dynamics of the border, of nationality and identity, and of music. The narcotraficante lifestyle seems like it can be painted a bit like Robin Hood, where the questions of good and bad are thrown out the window and are, rather, replaced with questions of perspective, power, need, culture. If you steal from the rich (the drug-addicted North Americans) to feed the poor (shunting drug money back to Mexico to better the community) (Ragland, 166), is that really “bad”? The law may seem black and white, but morality is rarely that clearcut... as are the other strands of questions Mexican music plays with - culture, identity, nationality, race, gender, etc, and the movement across and between the Mexican and American frameworks for these. I also wonder how narcocorridos compare with rap and the prevalence of sex and domestic violence and rape in rap music. I know very little about ether genre (oh, how problematic this idea of genre is, as we know), but it doesn’t seem as though rappers are killed like the Mexican musicians were...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
response to Miller reading
One of the major things I got out of the Miller book was the idea that commercialized music was integrated into "folk" music, or southern music, rather than the other way around, of the Powers That Be appropriating "authentic" or "folk" music. I actually thought it would be the second way, although when one thinks about it, given the proliferation of commercialized music, it is not surprising that southern music would be influenced by commercialized music. It was interesting that Charles Peabody was dismayed to hear African American laborers singing commercialized "white" music coming from New York City - in that it exemplified the sentiment of the Jim Crow laws, wherein Powers That Be (usually white) wanted to put race and genres and music in separate boxes. The bleed-thru of commercial music into "folk" music, then, seemed to threaten the sacred tenet of segregation on which the Jim Crow laws are based, and hence threaten the hegemonic power of white folks. (who are, at the end of the day, still "folks" - more on this later) Genres have always really bothered me. It seems to seek to put art and artistic endeavors (music, film, TV, etc --- and people, as we see) in these tiny boxes. They put unnecessary boundaries and limitations on human expression, and seek to categorize and organize in order to control. We see this with film and TV genres all the time. Especially with the Emmys, what is "good" and what is "bad" is often based on genre - this is a "good" drama show, this is a "good" comedy show, and we will reward you for falling within the lines of genre, award shows tell us. Race, then, as Miller demonstrates, is an ultimate genre that then gets tied closely with art produced by racialized bodies. It is a type of genre that comes with even more historical power struggles than the genre to which I previously referred. Both, of course, are constructed, and are sites of power struggles. This idea of racialized genres is still prevalent in music today, although it seems less imposed upon by Powers That Be and more simply part of the hegemonic fabric of our society that comes from a history of slavery and oppression of non-white people. Broonzy's quote "all music is folk music" in the afterword of the book is poignant on many levels. On one level, he speaks of the challenges (and possibly inanity) of trying to categorize folk music, of trying to categorize what is "authentic." On the other hand, I feel he makes a much broader statement about race and the perceived inferiority of African Americans or non-white musicians. He seems to react to the fact that non-Whites, and especially African Americans, were treated no better than animals, if we recall the slavery era. His comment about the horse speaks to this very clearly. This statement is poignant because it recognizes the dehumanization of black folks in the south, and seeks to bring an aspect of humanity back into the conversation, to remind people that, regardless of race, everyone is foundationally human. One more quick anecdote that I won't elaborate on too much (might be able to link it later to another blog), but I thought was relevant to this idea of racialized music. My friend Dawen performed at the Apollo in NYC last week. Did not win, but is interesting in that he's a guy of Asian decent playing soul music. Dawen's genre is R&B, another "traditionally" black genre. I've often wondered if Asian American musicians have a genre of music, or if we just bounce around, adapting other racialized genres?
Monday, March 21, 2011
parody? or not?
My brother showed me this (right before going into surgery this past week .... so I guess maybe this is a lasting legacy of his underbite, which is no more)... Anyway - I can't decide if I think this is a joke or not, because it's SO BAD...like, how can the producers not know that it's so bad?! In other, more pressing and scary news, there seems to be a memory leak in my macbook. WTF?! It just went from 7GBs to 1GB...and I haven't downloaded anything.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
propriety in sound in critical care
I'm here in the critical care waiting room waiting on, well, I'm not sure what. Just to be proximal to my brother, who had surgery yesterday on his jaw. My poor brother is all swollen, and my poor mom wasn't expecting the surgery to be as major as it was (it seemed like I was the first one to realize how major this surgery is....and then it dawned on my brother, and I think my mom was the only one under the illusion that this surgery would just be a "minor jaw adjustment." Anyway, the soundscape in the CCU waiting room is interesting. There was a moment earlier where everyone was silent, and there was this girl who was speaking rather loudly on and on about some medical procedure in great (uninformed, it seemed) detail - something about breaking ribs and seeing the so-and-so's heart beating underneath a sponge, and gorily too. And she was shushed by the waiting room attendant. And got all huffy about it.
Space is an interesting thing in the waiting room too. It seems like people really just camp out here, at least, with this girl and her friends, they seem to have taken up an entire half of the waiting room. I'm still trying to listen to see exactly why they're in here. Oh, and she listens in on other people's conversations and interrupts. Interesting. Boundaries seem to dissolve in hospital waiting rooms. Probably because everyone is looking for an excuse for distraction. Oh, interesting, there's a gender debate going on...involving Barbies and Disney princesses. And this woman seems like she has 5 kids. But she looks no older than I. Yeeeeesh. It seems like she just needs to be the center of attention. She's completely hijacked the conversation between these two other people. Ok, here's the story. Since she was willing to share so very loudly. Her husband was in an accident after he fell asleep at the wheel, and 4 of the kids are stepchildren. Yikes. Hope everything will be ok. But yikes. Oh, the collapse of public and private space...
Space is an interesting thing in the waiting room too. It seems like people really just camp out here, at least, with this girl and her friends, they seem to have taken up an entire half of the waiting room. I'm still trying to listen to see exactly why they're in here. Oh, and she listens in on other people's conversations and interrupts. Interesting. Boundaries seem to dissolve in hospital waiting rooms. Probably because everyone is looking for an excuse for distraction. Oh, interesting, there's a gender debate going on...involving Barbies and Disney princesses. And this woman seems like she has 5 kids. But she looks no older than I. Yeeeeesh. It seems like she just needs to be the center of attention. She's completely hijacked the conversation between these two other people. Ok, here's the story. Since she was willing to share so very loudly. Her husband was in an accident after he fell asleep at the wheel, and 4 of the kids are stepchildren. Yikes. Hope everything will be ok. But yikes. Oh, the collapse of public and private space...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
changes in voice
The title sort of gives it away, but here's a disconnect between visual and audio signal, and our ideas of gender norms.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Interstitial Time
Interstitial time. Time that's not work time or leisure time. Time that traditionally has not been "productive." Work time increases economic capital, while leisure time increases cultural and social capital, to put it reductively.
What I find though, is that I'm incredibly productive during interstitial times. Especially when I have hours and hours and hours of it. Like at the airport, or on the airplane. Maybe it's because I don't feel like I'm obligated to do work, that I do a ton of it.
On my way to Ottawa, I created my presentation (essentially wrote a 10-page paper based on my paper from last semester on temporal capital). Then, on the way back, I wrote three abstracts and read an entire *academic* book (Granted, it was on Disney World, but it ain't no Twilight, and was in the critical theory/cultural studies realm), made new friends, and had a whole conversation about Don't Ask Don't Tell, as one of my new friends is in the Army Reserve (she was wearing her fatigues).
Then today, I opened my email to the daunting task of translating a canvassing script for Vote for Equality into Chinese. Daunting because they want it by Thursday, and because Chinese isn't my native language. And the previous translation that I was working with was written in simplified Chinese. Which, for me, was like reading Shakespeare with letters missing.
(oooh. my free wifi session just canceled, but all I had to do was log in again...and this time, I took a REALLY quick survey - took literally 20 seconds - talk about temporal capital in exchange for something)
However, because I had nothing else pressing to do, and for some reason can't consume entertainment media during interstitial time because the joy of consuming entertainment media only happens when you're procrastinating on something you're SUPPOSED to be doing (ie: during work time...), I translated half of this document waiting for my flight at LAX (which was delayed), and translated the rest on the plane before watching 2 episodes of Dexter, then conking out for 3 hours.
And now waiting at Logan, I've already written two blog posts and discovered discrepancies in this NCA submission process...
Maybe Spring Break is the interstitial time for me to be really productive. Of course, it could also go horribly in the other direction.
What I find though, is that I'm incredibly productive during interstitial times. Especially when I have hours and hours and hours of it. Like at the airport, or on the airplane. Maybe it's because I don't feel like I'm obligated to do work, that I do a ton of it.
On my way to Ottawa, I created my presentation (essentially wrote a 10-page paper based on my paper from last semester on temporal capital). Then, on the way back, I wrote three abstracts and read an entire *academic* book (Granted, it was on Disney World, but it ain't no Twilight, and was in the critical theory/cultural studies realm), made new friends, and had a whole conversation about Don't Ask Don't Tell, as one of my new friends is in the Army Reserve (she was wearing her fatigues).
Then today, I opened my email to the daunting task of translating a canvassing script for Vote for Equality into Chinese. Daunting because they want it by Thursday, and because Chinese isn't my native language. And the previous translation that I was working with was written in simplified Chinese. Which, for me, was like reading Shakespeare with letters missing.
(oooh. my free wifi session just canceled, but all I had to do was log in again...and this time, I took a REALLY quick survey - took literally 20 seconds - talk about temporal capital in exchange for something)
However, because I had nothing else pressing to do, and for some reason can't consume entertainment media during interstitial time because the joy of consuming entertainment media only happens when you're procrastinating on something you're SUPPOSED to be doing (ie: during work time...), I translated half of this document waiting for my flight at LAX (which was delayed), and translated the rest on the plane before watching 2 episodes of Dexter, then conking out for 3 hours.
And now waiting at Logan, I've already written two blog posts and discovered discrepancies in this NCA submission process...
Maybe Spring Break is the interstitial time for me to be really productive. Of course, it could also go horribly in the other direction.
Kind of brilliant
Never seen anything like this before. And it's pretty brilliant in terms of Internet and advertising. And so incredibly simple.
I just got into Logan, and waiting here for two hours for the first bus to get here (oh, the joys of red-eye flights). Logan has Internet. I can access Internet automatically from my iPhone and iPad (I think - I haven't tried the iPad yet, but I have had experience where if it's an apple product, it will log you right in, and my iPhone seemed to pick it right up). Then, because I had some deliverables I needed to send out, I pull out my laptop to see if Logan is giving my laptop free wifi.
It does, conditionally. But it's a condition I don't think anyone would complain about if free wifi is the reward.
The site that pops up gives three options - either you can log in with boingo, pay for a day pass, or watch a 30-second ad by Asus (at least mine was Asus). I, of course, chose the last option. After a painless and rather entertaining ad, voila! Internet!
What can you say? Boston's full of smart people.
I just got into Logan, and waiting here for two hours for the first bus to get here (oh, the joys of red-eye flights). Logan has Internet. I can access Internet automatically from my iPhone and iPad (I think - I haven't tried the iPad yet, but I have had experience where if it's an apple product, it will log you right in, and my iPhone seemed to pick it right up). Then, because I had some deliverables I needed to send out, I pull out my laptop to see if Logan is giving my laptop free wifi.
It does, conditionally. But it's a condition I don't think anyone would complain about if free wifi is the reward.
The site that pops up gives three options - either you can log in with boingo, pay for a day pass, or watch a 30-second ad by Asus (at least mine was Asus). I, of course, chose the last option. After a painless and rather entertaining ad, voila! Internet!
What can you say? Boston's full of smart people.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
guitar shopping
I feel like I've been so bad at blogging recently - mostly because I went to this conference in Ottawa and talked about temporal capital and how an episode of Lost takes up 43 minutes of my time, and how we are completely limited in how much time we have in a day. So that's my excuse. I haven't had time to sit down and blog. I went to Guitar Center with a friend today to get her a guitar. And amid the multitudes of brands, models, styles, shapes, sizes of guitars, trying to pick the perfect one took, well, nearly 3 hours. And the end of the day, you question whether or not the sound of one is really better than the other (the one she eventually picked out is, in my opinion, a fantastic guitar - a Martin D-15 - all-solid all-mahagony dreadnought guitar - total beaut). And the challenging thing is that in Guitar Center itself is a cacophony of sound as other people also try out various guitars. I frequent Guitar Center, and rarely is it that crowded where you can't hear your own playing. And then there are people who are really amazing players jamming away on random guitars, and all you want to do is listen to them for a while, but then you don't want to seem too intrusive. Anyway. Yay for guitar shopping. I was very VERY tempted to get a ukulele, but I resisted.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
20111_comm_620_20911: You Are Listening to Los Angeles
Perry - posting this to my blog. Blog readers (all, you know, 3 of you), this was sent to me by a classmate of mine. Fascinating.
It's interesting - I listened to NY, LA, and Chicago (the three cities I've called home!) and all the dispatchers seem to be female! Actually, there are a lot of female voices here in Chicago (which I'm listening to right now).In Chicago, there's a disturbance at a club by an "extremely intoxicated male refusing to leave," and a suspicious-looking auto.
OH they just said that there's an incident, and was cautioned to "be professional." errrr?!
The ambient music is kinda creepy. I turned it off. It makes it feel as though it's pre-recorded.
Cynthia
************
Cynthia Wang
Annenberg School for Communication
University of Southern California
cynthia.w@usc.edu
Cynthia Wang
Annenberg School for Communication
University of Southern California
cynthia.w@usc.edu
On Mar 9, 2011, at 1:15 AM, Perry Johnson wrote:
Hi friends!Thought this might interest those of you thinking about sound mapping and the soundscape(s) of LA for the final project--if not, still a fascinating project.You Are Listening to Los Angeles: LAPD Police Radio and Ambient Musichttp://youarelistening.to/losangelesEnjoy your spring break!Perry
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Monday, March 07, 2011
wind
When it's really windy, it sounds like cars are driving by my apartment in the rain (with the sound their wheels make on wet pavement). So all afternoon, I totally thought it was raining. Until I checked weather.com.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Bieber
I just heard/watched this for the first time:
I don't know if I should feel proud for having avoided it for this long, or pathetic for spending 3:45 of my temporal capital watching it.... Thanks a lot, SNL, for having Miley Cyrus spoof Justin Bieber tonight.
I don't know if I should feel proud for having avoided it for this long, or pathetic for spending 3:45 of my temporal capital watching it.... Thanks a lot, SNL, for having Miley Cyrus spoof Justin Bieber tonight.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
At the roller derby
At the roller derby right now. Thinking about sounds and sports. The announcer's comments are so secondary in terms of what sounds take priority when you're actually there. Whereas when you watch a sporting event on TV, the announcer is overwhelmingly the voice that you hear. Following that, that means that on tv, your experience of the event is shaped by the announcer more than if you were actually there. Attached is a short clip of the derby. 
Friday, March 04, 2011
As I sit procrastinating...
I'm sitting here trying to write my midterm paper before running around the continent next week. So naturally, I'm watching YouTube videos. Raymond Lee singing "Long Train Ride" from Victor Woo: The Average Asian American
Erin Quill doing her own version of "Be Good to your Mama":
Megan Lee and Raymond Lee dueting to "I See the Light" from Tangled:
Erin Quill doing her own version of "Be Good to your Mama":
Megan Lee and Raymond Lee dueting to "I See the Light" from Tangled:
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Response for Suisman
Suisman’s book was fantastic. I found myself wanting to highlight almost everything (but I restrained myself). I actually wrote a paper (for Lisa Gitelman’s class at NYU) on piano rolls in the late 19th, early 20th century that probed the idea (that Suisman discusses) of interpolating people into the middle class by having player pianos and piano rolls. I was particularly drawn to the part about the phonograph, and Caruso’s recordings, especially with Victor’s Red Label in which hierarchies of cultural capital were constructed through the use of sound recording and playback technologies. How very fitting that we read this book during the week of the EMP conference, whose theme was Music and Money, since Suisman gives a delightful narrative that tracks the commodification of music and sound. I was struck by the class implications for the player piano and the phonograph, as well as its power to disseminate information to the public in a sort of democratizing process. Suisman makes the point that before the phonograph, the only way one can listen to the opera is to have enough cultural and economic capital to attend a live performance. With the phonograph, “high Art” (with the capital A) is now more widely accessible to a greater number of people. The part about Tin Pan Alley and songwriters as hands (or pens) for hire hit close to home for me this week as well. I was just commissioned to write a song for someone who is trying to win her girlfriend back. The feeling of writing this song is very different than what I write organically for myself. I think about the song less as an artwork, and more as an object. The process of songwriting in Tin Pan Alley demarcates the difference between music songwriting as artistic process and music songwriting as a craft. Tin Pan Alley is certainly the latter. And in my case this week, the song I write for someone else is more craft than art. Songwriting in Tin Pan Alley becomes a functional process (following the oversimplified idea that a piece of art is defined when one admires it for its aesthetic form over its utility as a functional object). The songwriters, and hence the songs themselves, serve more a function for capitalistic gains rather than the transcendental purpose of spiritual fulfillment that Art (with a capital A) purportedly forwards. Another point I would like to make that seems to be an ongoing theme of this class is the fact that this book is about music and sound, and yet the way the information is given to the reader is through describing the sounds and music via texts and pictures. the visual hegemony of epistemological knowledge binds even a book about sound and music to its rules. We learn about music and sound thru text and pictures.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
