This is the first article in a series we'll be running which features interviews with some of the people who will be speaking at the iSummit in Sapporo.How many times have you seen a pair of designer shoes or the perfect summer dress, or the most exquisite suit in a magazine, with a price tag that makes your eyes water? And how many of you have gone out the next day, and found the shoes, dress or suit in the same shape and style for a fraction of the price? How many times have you hauled out the jeans or shirt that have been hanging around in the back of your closet because the line and cut are back en vogue? Or rummaged in your grandmothers trunk for the vintage gear that's gracing catwalks this season?
The constant ebb and flow of the fashion industry, the recycling of looks, styles and trends and the reworking of design is just one of the areas of the Commons that Johanna Blakley is interested in.
The Deputy Director of the Norman Lear Centre, Johanna works every day in examining the point at which entertainment, commerce and society converge. She's also a pretty dapper lady, with a wicked sense of humour. And (yes, there is more) she's going to be speaking at the iSummit in Sapporo in August. So we thought we'd have a chat with her, and do our best to understand how parks, pashminas and public space fit into the commons.
Can you tell us a bit more about the Norman Lear Center?
I'm a big fan! And, yes, I work there. The Lear Centre is basically a think tank that studies the impact of entertainment on society. We define entertainment as any attempt to capture and hold attention, so our research ranges from political campaigns and local TV news, to fashion, marketing and design.
The Lear Centre is based at the University of Southern California's Annenberg School for Communication, where we bring together faculty from every imaginable discipline who study entertainment, media and culture. Beyond campus, we try to bridge the gap - a deep one, let me tell you - between the entertainment industry and academia, and between them and the public. We hold major conferences, we perform quantitative and qualitative research, and we publish books and essays on juicy topics like propaganda films of the 1940s, the effects of the "18-49" advertising rubric, and the relationship between political ideology and entertainment preferences (we're doing another major survey on the topic this summer). Our biggest project at the moment is Hollywood, Health & Society: we work with all the major US TV shows - from telenovelas and soapies to primetime comedies and dramas - to make sure that the health information they depict in those shows is accurate. Turns out - surprise, surprise - people believe what they see, even on fictional shows, and they often act on the information they receive.
One of the projects you're involved in is concerned with public space. How do you think using and sharing public space can affect the personality/psyche of a community?
In the United States, the notion of civic or public space is often fraught with contradiction: on the one hand, it's the space that everyone owns, but, on the other, it's the place no one owns. In Los Angeles in particular, where parks per capita are at an abysmal national low, gathering in a public place is an exception, not the rule.
Our goal for the Grand Avenue Intervention is to maximise public input into the design of a new 16-acre park in the heart of downtown Los Angeles. We were troubled when we discovered that Los Angeles County had no plans to run a design contest for what was supposed to be an iconic civic park. We contacted the Los Angeles Times and they agreed to partner with us on a grass-roots public design contest. Three hundred submissions later, the Times devoted an entire section of the paper to all the incredible ideas submitted by professionals, amateurs, kids, artists, cranks, you name it.
We mostly used digital tools (enriched Google maps, 3D models, webcasts, online surveys, etc.) to increase public participation in the project and it got me thinking: What would happen if we incorporated digital communication tools into the park itself? Would we be able to keep the conversation going and empower users of the park to discuss its uses and its future as they enjoy it?
I began collecting examples of public spaces that had been infused with digital media and I found it was mostly public artists who'd been experimenting with the idea. While there has been a lot of academic attention given to the development of public domains in digital media environments, and much hand-wringing about how virtual communities are shoddy replacements for real, physical communities, far less attention has been directed to the insertion of digital media environments into public spaces. I think this is a fascinating field of inquiry and I think digital parks will end up revolutionising our notions about what can be accomplished within public spaces.
Can you explain a bit about how people in the fashion industry work within the commons?
Sure - I think most people don't realise (and this goes for many people I've met in the fashion industry) that it is perfectly legal to copy another fashion designer's designs. In the United States, anyone can make an exact replica of a Prada skirt, a Calvin Klein slip dress or an Armani suit with very little chance that a lawyer will be knocking on your door. The only thing you can't do is pass that replica off as an actual Prada, Calvin Klein or Armani. That is trademark infringement and so you'll be sued within an inch of your life. Consequently, fashion designers, unlike musicians or filmmakers, can sample from a vast treasure chest of previous design as they make their new creations. They can copy a sleeve shape from a vintage 1960s dress, incorporate it into a Vivienne Westwood-ish neo Victorian punk frock et voila! A new look, a new idea, and a new something for someone to buy . . . and to potentially knock-off.
Why do you think some industries like fashion and folk music are more accepting of the idea of the "commons" while others, like popular music or the film industry are more suspicious of it? Both use the commons as a source of creativity, but the one seems hell bent on preventing sharing, while the others are happy to share.
People would like to say it's all about money, and some primordial (that is, pre-digital) concept of ownership, but the answer is more complex than that. While many folk musicians may not be concerned about the bottom line, the fashion industry generates massive amounts of revenue. In 2003, U.S. apparel sales were $192 billion, dwarfing film/video/DVD revenues ($60 billion) and music sales ($12.6 billion). Every artist in every creative industry is participating in the commons, whether they wish to acknowledge it or not. Human creativity simply doesn't happen in a vacuum, but the music and film industries have backed themselves into a dark corner by clinging to an economic model that has passed its prime. Now that digital assets are so easy to copy and share, both industries - and television, of course, as well - are scrambling to find other ways to monetise their intellectual property, and, ironically, it looks like they'll be reverting to some old models that pre-date the ability to record audio/visual data. Live events (and appointment viewing) are making a big comeback.
Commoners are often dismissed as computer geeks and law-nerds. Do you think a new generation of commons-savvy people who work in the entertainment, architecture, fashion and cultural spheres is emerging? And do you think they can teach us how to dress better?
Ah! Your most important question so far! I think many commoners are deeply suspicious of mainstream popular culture and everything it stands for, including its emphasis on branding and packaging. I also struggle with the shallow aspects of pop culture and fashion trends, but I think it's too easy to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Style itself has real substance, and the look of something is not something to be dismissed lightly. Humans crave attractive and intriguing interfaces and someone who dresses well both beautifies the environment and attracts some of the same benefits that a beautifully packaged piece of technology also enjoys. Maybe if geeks think of their outward appearance in the same way that they think about interface design, we'll all benefit! Please do your part and wear something sassy to the iSummit . . .
