10.09.2012

3.3 “Modeling Functionality: From Codex to e-Book”

Presentation of 3.3. Johanna Drucker: SpecLab  Summary/Restructure/Synthesis of Main Arguments with my own supporting take. *

Opening Critique
Current conceptualizations of the e-Book are misguided.  Good case study of how a “too-literal” understanding of what constitutes the material form of one media (print book) is misconceived when that media is converted to another media environment (135).


Replication Pitfalls
Q: What formal and paratextual conventions are associated with the print codex?

In e-Book development there is too much emphasis on replicating print interface/paratext conventions, rather than engaging with how these features impact the reading process and the book’s function (136).

“Electronic presentations often mimic the kitschiest elements of book iconography, while potentially useful features of electronic functionality are excluded” (136).
Not based on strength and potential, but you get the kitschy page turn!

Examples of Extended/Augmented Content
1.
Publishing Company that makes e-Books for Penguin other artists on our panel for SXSW.  Sacredness of text and platform development they were confined to adding “jazz” to some sections of On the Road as their improved book.  Panelist did not take kindly to platform specific development approach, because operating from a company top-down corporate model.
2.
THE FREAKING VOOK demo: content embedded in a page
not a new idea: worst book trailers
3. The current State of E-books From Alice to Jason Lewis to Us & Amaranth + other dude:


Prescriptives

“The icon of the “book” that casts its long shadow over the production of new electronic instruments is a grotesquely distorted and reductive idea of the codex as a material object” (138).

Q: Which aspects of the book have relevance for/use in the digital environment?

set 1:
rapid refresh time
time-stamped updates,
collaborative and aggregated work.
“outstanding characteristic is its mutability” (137)

set 2:
juxtaposition of disparate material for study/analysis (document aggregation)
community discussion/expression of shared conditions of textual production (intersubjective exchange)
data processing (144)

These aspects help alter the materiality of an encoded information that comprises a text.  In other words, they make the text mutable.  The capacity to alter materiality is where the interesting opportunities lie. (137).

“DESIGNERS MIGHT DO WELL TO CONSIDER EXTENDING THE WAYS A BOOK WORKS” (136, emphasis added).

Q: What are the “metaphors” of book structure?

preserving some metaphors make no sense (page turn animation/clippy) “like preserving a coachman’s seat on a motor vehicle” (137).
Though markers as a metaphor to keep oriented in an array of data is ok

We can understand how to proceed in designing for the new media iteration of the book by understanding the historical contexts and inspirations that lead to its codified/popular representation (138).

“Instead of reading the book as a formal structure, then, we should understand it in terms of what is known in the architecture profession as a “program”, that is, as constituted by the activities that arise from a response to the formal structures
Further
“we should look to scholarly and artistic practices for insight into ways the programmatic function of the traditional codex has been realized” (138).
- Heinz von Foerster: ask how a book does its particular actions rather than what a book is.


Prescriptives Summary
pg. 140 Drucker’s three approaches:
1. analyze how a book works rather than what it is.
2. describe the program that arises from a book’s formal structures
3. discard the idea of iconic metaphors of book identity for understanding how forms serve as “constrained parameters for performance.”

Traditional codex has some notions that are useful for virtual books, but these are not as “literal metaphors, rather as sites of “performative space for the production of reading” (140).


The Codex as Alpha/Omega
Traditional Codex is already “virtual”
1. literary theories that readers are required to “activate” a text.  
“produced anew by the activity of each reading” (140).
2. Contains Hypertextual Elements

Q: What are some paratextual/hypertextual elements in print codex?

Paratext and Hypertextual elements famously may contribute toward a text that has “various routes of access” (143).  But because you can posit a link to virtual theory, doesn’t mean that they transfer the same function when recreated in the electronic space.  This is partially because they are being instantiated in a different materiality.  Instead we should use our knowledge of the codex to think of the“function that every graphical feature can serve, as well as the informational reference it contains as part of its production or reception history” (143).

It seems that much of Drucker's argument may be in support of her concept of graphesis
“The development of graphical features that abstract the book’s contents thus reflect a radical change in attitudes toward knowledge” (141).
or structure is “produced through graphical performance” (142).
or “The information space of a book appears as the structure of its layout” (142).
“graphical elements are not arbitrary or decorative, but serve as functional cognitive guides” (143).

The Book of Kells


Other Interesting Points
MARKET
- expanded content “On the Road”
In marketing driving need to market as a type of print book that is safe and recognizable.  Connect to the historical priority of print books and “invoke a link with their established cultural identity” (135).

Irony that marketing carries claims of “improving on the book”.  However, keeping the same design models and trying to force a material interface onto an inappropriate form is not only a poor product choice but also implicitly suggests the print book is “flawed” in some way.  When in reality they should be too different models evaluated for individual strengths and weaknesses.

Mediation as Invisibility
if we think of the book as a medium than it may have already gotten to the place lots of contemporary “new” media aspire to go (and may eventually go)
Our familiar history with book conventions “causes them to become invisible, and obscures their origin within activity” (142).

Finally, Backlash

"Cinema as Skin and Touch"


Cinema as Touch

Reading: "Cinema as Skin and Touch"Thomas Elsaesser and Malte Hagener.
Lately, I've been giving a lot of thought to the relation between our bodies and contemporary reading practices. I'm referring to both how our physical bodies are conditioned by digital reading platforms and how our haptic sense and inform/contribute to the reading process. In Film Theory, Elsaesser and Hagener's chapter in "Cinema as Skin and Touch" was relevant to both the general questions above and the specific mechanics of my current project: Penumbra.  Particularly relevant to hybrid, touch-screen cinema is Elsaesser and Hagener's positioning of skin as a prominent (and increasing) method of reading cinema.  Skin is an apparatus that "understands cinema also as a haptic experience." The argument she outlines has interesting implications.  Though, I would argue that skin's property of "continuous perception"  isn't necessarily activated at all moments of engaging with cinema.  I would be curious to see further evidence in support of this point.  Although, it seemed like a poetic throw-away, I feel like it is key to maintaining the power of her argument.  Further, it seems to activate at specific triggers.  Instead, specific triggers for activating one's haptic awareness seems more in-line with the examples she gives.  I recognize that her argument is constructing a shift from the primacy of ocullarcentrism to a mode that re-enables the body in the viewing process; however, she doesn't acknowledge that the body is often triggered by visual response.  In other words, viewing is often the gateway to our embodied reactions to cinema.  It is needed for skin to activate. Vision and embodiment work in concert for a total experience of cinema. On pgs.118-119 I'm interested in Sobchack's notion of "a position of sympathy vis-a-vis the other".  This is particularly relevant to me as an artist.  In Penumbra, we are hoping that  readers will resonate with the protagonist through a type of sympathetic reading of the external and internal world of the character.  The reader is situated in the protagonist's mind, reading the world through them by employing haptic touch-screen gestures.   Ideally, knowledge of one's embodiment would function as a condition of empathy with the Other. 

10.02.2012

iPAD: Scene 1 Draft 2


The voice over  in the internal world, mostly refers to what’s above it.

actor gestures mostly tie to dialog below them

EXT. SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA OIL FIELDS - EARLY EVENING


JAMES POV: Rusted industrial debris is dispersed throughout the desert brush.  At uneven intervals, oil pumps nod in the background.  The arrangement is haphazard and in slight disrepair, but still conveys a sense of utility.  A  wash runs through the compound.  The juxtaposition of water, rust and sand contributes to the otherworldly feel of the setting. The mise en scene is enhanced by industrial decay: a mixture of absence and presence, abandoned but clearly in use. James prepares to speak into a communicator as his focus shifts to an industrial complex on the horizon.  

JAMES
Blast perimeter secured.

ANNOUNCER
15 second warning, 15 second warning

James lowers the communicator and faces left towards LUKE and two male demolition workers in their late 20s to late 30s. All wear standard issue safety gear.  LUKE stands closest to James and turns to acknowledge him with a conspiratorial smile.  Behind Luke, the remaining workers hurry to set-up a flip camera.

ANNOUNCER
10 second warning, 10 second warning

All present begin the countdown from 10.  James’ focus is on a close-up of Luke’s profile as he counts down.  The two workers struggle with the camera in the background.  When the group reaches 7, James turns towards the industrial complex.  At the announcer’s call of “FIRE” the landscape becomes unnaturally still and all sound is muffled until it becomes silence. The announcer’s command is the only sound that reaches through the stillness.

ANNOUNCER
FIRE

[1] OUTSIDE WORLD EYES OPEN
[2] INSIDE WORLD EYES CLOSED

[1] The world falls into slow motion/delay effect as the industrial complex implodes on the horizon.  It is silent in the whole aftermath of the explosion sequence except for James’ voice overs reflecting on his memories in the internal world.   Most of the action in this sequence takes place in the internal world.  Since James’ attention is riveted on what’s happening in his mind, the action in the external world is in extreme slow motion and slightly out of focus as if his eyes are wandering or gazing vacantly. Dust plumes rise and settle slowly.  In the immediate aftermath, everyone claps and cheers.  Luke, in selective focus, removes his communicator from his pocket and speaks into it as the remaining workers review their recording footage in the background. He turns to face James and expectantly relays a set of instructions.  The end of this part of 1 should correspond to the jump of Luke’s hand on James’s shoulder in the next [1][
more Details to be established on location]

[2]  Break from POV. Medium shot of James in his early 20s.  The edges of his upper body are slightly eroded amidst the murky darkness of a distant memory.  Dream-like light illuminates James’ “chocolate chip” patterned fatigues.  In extreme slow motion, James looks up at the camera and starts to slightly fall back.  At first there is only James within the blackness, then, gradually, the edges of Spade poker cards creep into the frame from the camera’s peripherals.  The cards move out from the camera and towards James’ face in extreme slow motion.  The whole scene occurs in roughly 15 seconds with james moving approximately 6 inches.  

JAMES V.O. [1]&[2]
In that moment, if I try to picture it, I imagine myself as if through glass - a mirror. This may be how it happened: a sudden flash of light and heat.  Brightness through the window then glass shards.  Force of an explosion behind edged cards.  This is how it happened, but this is not how.

[2] Cut to quick, close-up, and slow motion animation of James’s eye during the process of debri entering his eye and causing corneal abrasion.  Shot may be repeated with different debri entering his eye to emphasize imperfect memory and unreliable narrator.

JAMES V.O. [1]&[2]
In that moment, if I try to picture it, I imagine myself as if through a lens: lens and cornea.  An eye is not glass, fragile, but not glass.  It is fragile like tissue.  It tears.

[2] Cut to medium shot of Jesse.  The structure, lighting, background and atmosphere mirror the earlier medium shot of James.  Jesse wears her fatigues and M17 mask.

JAMES V.O. [1]&[2]
But something else is always ripping in: a memory tears, clouded by debris and full of water.

[2] A montage of quick shots that take place off-duty, elusive memories of Jesse in civilian clothing. She wears the same white dress as in Scene 3 and Scene 4. A few shots also contain Jesse and Luke as a couple.  

JAMES V.O [1]&[2]
In my mind, she is younger and softer.  Maybe these moments are remembered; maybe they never were.

[2] Cut to medium shot of Jesse.  This shot is exactly the same as the medium shot of her in the fatigues and mask, except she is wearing the white dress instead of the fatigues.

JAMES V.O [1]&[2]
Either way, they become something. Something I won’t hold.  Something I can’t.  

[2] Same medium shot of Jesse in white dress and mask.  An arm enters the frame from the left and hesitates while moving towards her mask.  The arm quickly removes a portion of her mask, briefly flashing a portion of Jesse’s face as a bone soldier.

JAMES V.O [1]&[2]
Something I deserve.

[2] In Bone Soldier Land, POV of James struggling forward through debris and smoke.  Light filters into a clearing that emerges in front of BJames.  Suddenly, progress forward is halted and James’s perspective lowers, as if sitting.

JAMES V.O [1]&[2]
Guilt is comfortable: a warm flickering heat.
But, always he makes me exit .  He . . .

[2} Just as BJames’s perspective lowers towards the fire, the Bone Soldier representing Luke arrives.  BJLuke appears in the clearing and uses his right arm and shoulder to push debris away.  BLuke distinctly, and deliberately, motions towards himself, towards the exit.  BLuke begins to move toward BJames.  BJames rises and moves forward clunkily.  His perspective is jumpy and drops frames as he follows BLuke “toward the light”.
Against the light, BLuke faces BJames and extends his arm toward BJames as if to rest it on his shoulder.
JAMES V.O [1]&[2]
. . . always brings me out.   Even now.  Though, there are things I’ve done, to him.  Keeping silent is a type of lie.  It expands until there is an unintended distance: an empty desert of self-made loss. Suddenly, you realize your time left.  You know that  quietly, the opportunity leaves.  Guilt settles, like the weight of a hand, on your shoulder: the weight of a hand that wakes you and says “it’s time”.


Need some way to get the reader back to the external world so they can see the parralel between bone soldier Luke and Luke.  Not sure how you want to do this or time it with the dialogue. ???

[1] When James next opens his eyes, Luke stands in front of him exactly parallel to how BLuke leaves James in the internal world.  Luke’s right hand is outstretched to fall heavily on James’s left shoulder.  Luke gently, but pointedly, stares at James before taking a breath and retreating to lean against a rail.  Although Luke’s stance on the rail is casual and relaxed, his expression is sharp and concerned.  He briefly looks away from James and into the distance before his eyes flick to the scroll now visible in his left hand before looking back at James.  In his anxiety, Luke defaults to his habit of gesturing with the right half of his body; During his first line, he absently waves the scroll in his right hand

LUKE
So . . . guess this means you’ve takin’ a look at it?

JAMES
James: yeah . . .  kind of figured you’d want to meet like this, in person. Besides it's good to see you.

Luke tosses James the Scroll.  James casually catches it and slides it from it’s protective case.  Unable to find a flat surface, James crouches before Luke to position it on the ground.  As James’ hand smooths the scroll flat, a diagram of a bridge emerges.  Rolled within the diagram are smooth white petals from the funeral flowers in Scene 3.  They go unacknowledged and scatter between the two men as James’ unfurling the diagram frees them to the wind.  

JAMES
Well, it’s certainly delicate.  I mean, when it’s over water like this, you’re looking at lots of environment regulations, permits, and all that red tape crap.

LUKE
Yeah, we’ve got that taken care of, not too late for us to do the rest, you know?  Just tell me what you got in mind.  

James releases a focusing breath to gear up a shift in the conversation.  His exposition is punctuated by him pointing to relevant structures in with the diagram.

JAMES
Easy,two sections really, substructure and super.  Overall . . . you’re looking at a controlled explosion with an easy 55 pounds of RDX explosives and 270 shaped charges.  First, the lifted span, or the leaf, collapses in on itself, implodes, neatly into piles that fall into the water according to regulations.

LUKE
That easy huh?   Sounds pretty delicate. . .you know I. . .


JAMES
need someone who’s trained.  I’ll place the charges myself. You’ll be impressed at how easily the structure melts, BAM, like butter.  

LUKE
What I’m tryin’ to say is: butter could get messy. Look, you're the best.  Hand’s down.  Nothin’s gonna change that.  but, well, we aren’t gettin’ any younger.  Don’t you think one of your team can handle the dirty stuff?

In the beat of heated silence, sand trickles from the top of Luke’s shirt to settle on the map.
James looks up sharply from the map

JAMES
What, you gonna crap out on me too?  You know I’m good for it.

Luke briefly closes his eyes to collect himself while he pretends to focus on folding the diagram.  It is clear that he is not paying any attention by the way he refolds it.

LUKE
Listen . . . I mean, look, are you sure you’re up for this?

JAMES
Do you think I’m not up for it?  Hey, you gave me this job. You didn’t seem to care about my condition then.  Nothing’s changed. Still not gonna let you down.

Luke, finished with the diagram,  stands as if to leave.

JAMES
Nothing’s changed.

Luke extends his hand out to James to draw him up

LUKE
I know.

There is a beat of weighty silence as sand pours from Luke’s left sleeve.

Luke (CONT’D)
(resigned)
I know, that’s why . . . look, I think you know what I’m tryin’ to say, so I’ll just tell it to you straight.  I was hopin’ to avoid this.  But, with this injury sneaking up on you again, it’s, it’s a liability.  Not just for your safety, but . . . also, for us.  As in, legally.  
JAMES
Are you?

Both men begin to leave the site and head towards the wash’s pathway.

LUKE
I’ve been wanting to tell you this in person, but after this project, it’s best you retire.

JAMES
What, how’s it best?

James turns from Luke towards a rail overlooking the wash.  He brings his palm down hard and clutches at the bar.  The sound reverberates as James remains still.

LUKE
I know it’s not your fault.  

JAMES
Do you? ‘Cause you seem to know best.

LUKE
Yeah, I do.  You wanna be professional?  My advice: get over it.  whatever it is, get over it. It’s not just about now, but its been like this, like always.

James turns to face Luke.  His voice is calculated.

JAMES
Yeah, you know, it has.  Small freakin’ wonder “I’m not over it”.  I mean I’m on borrowed time here.  But since you're the professional, maybe you can tell what’s my fault and what’s not.
You wanna go there . . .

LUKE
Look you’re upset. but I’m not going to convince you . . .

JAMES
It’s Jesse.

A pause after the build-up.  The sound of sand pouring.  Luke immediately closes up and his voice becomes tinged with distance.  He quickly recovers, falling back on his parental role.


LUKE
That was a long time ago.  Don’t try to change the subject.

JAMES
(subdued)
You know there is no other subject.  There never was.

LUKE
(resigned, tired)
Why did I ask you here?  I’ve been watching you.  But, it’s too much. See, you’re jobs have been needing greater firepower.  Someone’s gotta be calculating odds.  But lately, I don’t think it’s been you.  You’ve got the look of a man trying to find an exit and I’m getting damn tired of leading you out.

James steps back harshly and abruptly.  There is a beat of silence as Luke’s facial expression flickers to a look of shock and guilt.  The silence lingers a beat longer.

LUKE (CONT’D)
Look, I . . . that was a bit harsh.  It’s just, yeah, I’m worried and, yeah, it’s stressing me out.  

JAMES
It’s fine, I probably deserved that.  No, I know I did.

James’ voice bristles with cold and attention as he turns from Luke and begins to walk alone, ahead up the path.

JAMES
Now you know.  That’s the last thing.  It’s done.  Back then you got my back.  Well, I’ve got yours now.  Like, I said, I’ll see this out to the end.

10.01.2012

Media Specificity as Prompt? and Us = the System's Playdough

I am a strong believer that neither media history nor the evolution of media works in isolation.  Therefore, it is hard for me to get fully behind what I have come to recognize in Media Specificity as an approach.  It is an approach; however, I am not sure whether it is meant to be more useful as an avenue for cultural critique or as a prompt for art making.  Logically, theoretically, I understand that relying on Media Specificity to define salient traits of media, hence culture,  is completely impractical (for all the reasons Noel Carroll lays out in Theorizing the Moving Image).  However, I can’t help but feel that aspects of Medium Specificity’s Internal component
can be useful as a “prompt” for the creation of new work.  According to Carroll, “the internal component examines the relation between the medium and the artform embodied in it” (8).
Perhaps, this opinion intersects with platform studies, but I think that evocative work can be made from considering what one is driven to make with what platform could best showcase it.  This is a way to leverage platform attributes (technically, culturally, socially) to add to the resonance of a work.  Even further, perhaps an assumption of what a specific medium can do best (or what a medium represents) acts as a prompt or catalyst for a nuanced piece of art.  Even if that art ends up expanding the original narrow assumption, is it not a valid way to get started?  This form of prompt would deal more with the potentials that a medium offers for art making, rather than the inverse prompt which deals with constraints.  Work by constraint is also a perfectly legitimate way of working.  Carroll refers to these constraints as “limits”.  As a writer, work by constraint seems like a natural way to work and is often used as a generative writing exercise in many contemporary workshops.  I do take issue with how Carroll seems to think working with a sense (even if it is an assumption) of a medium’s attributes is easy.  He seems to think that art created with a medium specific approach is the easy way out.  I think his opinions on this at the top of pg. 10 speak of someone who is not necessarily a practitioner.  A great deal of thought and planning can go into thinking how art resonates with the medium and materiality it professes to be created within.   If you are truly creating art, there is no “easy way out”.  I was almost offended by his flippant comments on the subject, when I get the feeling that he has not tried to produce from both sides of the argument.  I was amused and surprised at this reaction.

I do think Carroll makes some essential points that we should be aware of.  Nothing operates in vacuum and the boundaries of many media are so wide-open that most attempts at describing them are overgeneralized and therefore useless.  I think this text will be a touch-stone text for me and seminal in my efforts to interject in my concern over how my field is being prematurely labeled.  The concern over labeling echoes some of the points and discussions in Uricchio’s “Television’s Next Generation: Technology/Interface Culture/Flow”.  I had a variety of responses to this however, I was most struck by “Double Agent”.  Double Agent is a type of filtered content based on metadata that learns from user selections and suggests what they would like.  I know that this happens all the time online, however an aspect of this article made this specifically creepy as hell and not just for the obvious reasons.  I have problems with how libraries are choosing to archive literature and the interesting labels given to works so they can be sorted, suggested and searched.  While I recognize the pragmatic use for this... it is still potentially problematic.  First, there is the case of how and what labels we develop on a whim now forever altering what we consider writing in the future.  Labels/Metadata have a power of growing and molding a field, or growing and molding our culture.  Double Agent has a similar power.  Based on the metadata that we encode the machine lumps together specific content.  In some way, large or small, this content becomes equalized.  Then after an umpire reads our viewing preferences, we are told what we probably want.  There is no way that this does not have the potential of shaping us.  The illusion is a more democratic viewing, but in reality we are “suggested” by the system.  It is even more insidious because we think that the system is adapting to us, but in reality, we are partly adapting to the system because it supposedly gets better at telling us what we like each time.  Creeeeeepy.  Part of this problem is interesting for me because it shares aspects with some of my thoughts on the archival and curation of works of writing in digital media.  This article also offers lots of parallels between TV’s nebulous state as a delivery mode that offers a little bit of everything and how I see writing evolving in the future.  

9.28.2012

Control of the Edit as Authorship


In the collision between author and reader, a system (language, process, product ) is nursed into being. It manifests in a volley of control. It activates in a nexus of exchange.
Such a system is multi-tiered and comprised of component forces.  Forces that both coalesce and subvert each other's intentions: sometimes simultaneously.  In other words: forces that comprise "interaction".

The reader and the writer are two component forces that activate the system of literature.  These forces aren't necessarily coequal, despite conflated claims, instead they are separate, but symbiotic.  A text is activated by the friction formed from the convergence and divergence of this respective control.  Much hype (with various degrees of sophistication) has been made of deconstructing and recasting the author/reader binary in literary theory: particularly early hypertext.  However, the debate can be traced back much further.  Early cinema theory is one contributor to this legacy.  Through André Bazin and Sergei Eisenstein, it might be possible to consider how the interplay between author/reader, audience/director shapes interactive literary experiences.  One way to interrogate a hypothesis is through practice based research.  Therefore, I will use my work on Penumbra as another lens through which to consider this issue.

Project Context:
Penumbra is a hybrid, gesture-based novella crafted for Apple’s iPad.  Or, rather than belonging to a any one category, it is more appropriately a system.  A system comprised of interlocking forces and carrying a literary aspect.  In Penumbra, both narrative and exploratory content are very intentionally composed. Though the author’s force in this may be omnipresent, the reader often retains some degree of control as a privileged guest in the protagonist’s mindscape. To further how the relationship between the forces of reader and writer operate on the project, an explanation of project mechanics is required.  Although there are multiple sites of  interaction, this paper will primarily concern itself with one of the project’s mechanics: its internal/external dichotomy. The protagonist’s external  world is initially represented in video, while the internal world is in text.  However, there are hints of overlap throughout the system that foreshadow the eventual collision of  worlds.  Most of the external world is represented by uncut POV video.  The default state of the project is the internal world, but the reader can force open the character’s eyes, a literal pinch gesture, to witness what the protagonist sees.  The order of events of chapters read in this mode are predetermined.  The reader may miss or encounter details depending on when they choose to open the eyes.  However, they are also restricted by the trope of blindness.  If the eyes are open too long, the author has imposed a refractory, or “white out”, period.  This forces the reader back inside the internal world to recover.  Internal world texts are thoughts, written as a stream of consciousness, that reflect on and adjust to the external world.

Text and video as representatives of the two worlds aren’t mutually exclusive; however these modes were chosen based on a hypothesis of what they might embody best.  An internal private world of text could create a subjective space, while an external world of video might showcase an objective reality.  According to Bazin, early researchers/pioneers increasingly imagined cinema as “the reconstruction of a perfect illusion of the outside world in sound, color, and relief” (20).  Bazin is known for his emphasis on realism; however, it is possible that Bazin advocates for something closer to “essence” rather than simple mirage.  Therefore, the choice to represent the character’s external world in video, could extend beyond a metaphor for “the cinematographic eye” into the “image of an embodied viewpoint on phenomena” (Eisenstein 233).  Regardless, Penumbra makes no claim to a untainted objectivity.  Structures of objective/subjective and internal/external become intertwined as the protagonist becomes disoriented.  The conflation of both worlds video indicates that video too is an “expressive means of revealing the inner world and ethical countenance of the characters themselves” (Eisenstein 199).

Author: Control of the Edit
In a hybrid cinematic system, like Penumbra, authorship rests on “control of the edit” or, at least, an illusion of control.  The edit contributes to the resonance of a system: its aesthetic impact.  Further, its resonance is found within what Bazin calls “rhythm of attention” (91).  Both author and reader direct the rhythms of intention through edits.  In authoring Penumbra, we set out to direct. The goal was to craft with deliberation and intention; thus, placing more emphasis on author controlled edits.  Even content that could be considered exploratory was still carefully constrained.  What remains of an exploratory structure is not a branching narrative; rather, reader control of how a linear structure is spliced.  Even if the reader is free to decide when to open the eyes, the project mechanics allow for author feedback by limiting the duration of possible edits. The push-pull dynamic between reader and author is heightened by the imposed white out period.  If the reader has spent too long in the protagonist’s external world, the protagonist’s eyes reach their limit and must close.  As a result, the reader is forcibly injected within the internal world.  By programming this parameter, the author intrudes on the reader’s edits.  The author may also force perspective and/or framing to ensure that essential story moments aren’t missed.  If the system determines that the reader is in the internal world during a relevant external shot, the world is able to pause its continuous time until the reader returns. For the reader’s illusion of control to uphold, they must not become aware of the break in world continuity.  Illusion is sustained by an audio track of  external world’s ambient sounds.  Thus, the “cinematic world” should appear to sustain its autonomy and not rely on the presence of the viewer for its existence (Bazin 114).

The author also asserts her presence by articulating story structure surrounding the edit.  Structure serves as the framing, or guiding, device for reader edits.  One form of structure is parallelism.  Films by early director D. W. Griffith employed the technique of “montage progression of parallel scenes, intercut into each other”.  Eisenstein associates Griffith’s parallel construction with strategies employed by Charles Dickens (Eisenstein 217).  Appropriate to it’s identity as fiction, Penumbra also uses parallel form: both in general structure and classic definition.  The most notable instance of the later is the introduction to Chapter 1 where the protagonist’s real world memories are intercut with their imaginary (stop-motion) counterparts.  The intention is to juxtapose alternate mindscapes in order to suggest an unreliable narrator.  Perhaps, the deliberation needed to compose a parallel sequence speaks to the presence of the author.  In Chapter XVII of Oliver Twist, Dicken’s himself professes, “sudden shiftings of the scene, and rapid changes of time and place, are not only sanctioned in books by long usage, but are by many considered as the great art of authorship . . . “ (qtd. in Eisenstein 224)

Finally Bazin’s concept of “normal editing” as three modes of “analyzing reality” may assist in determining type and degree of author control.  The author’s control of the edit is proportional to how leading an edit is in creating “concentration of attention”.  The first mode, “A purely logical and descriptive analysis”, is very leading and conveys a deliberate, intentional guidance (91).  One of the external world moments that a reader is forced to witness in Penumbra is the POV application of eye drops right before the protagonist’s vision clears.  Yet, most of Penumbra is more closely aligned with Bazin’s second mode: “a psychological analysis from within the film” (92).  Bazin describes this as POV, but it can also be linked to how the reader analyzes the protagonist’s thoughts, which are in turn the protagonist’s analysis of the external world. The guidance is less explicit and the reader is asked to make an associative leap.  A split mind process is necessarily for writing the system.  On one hand is an awareness of crafting leading “concentrations of attention”, on the other was willingness to give up control and compose without knowing how exact splices would be made.

Reader: Control of the Edit
Ways that the reader might have control of the edit have already been alluded to.  In fact, by simply engaging with a system, the reader already has some control because they are needed for its activation.  The cult of the author is not all supreme.  Bazin seems to advocate for a more democratic reading.  He examines the contemporary (at the time of his writing) emphasis on “fidelity to text” and hints at how the sacredness of the text could be a detriment to adaptation, or a better work of art (84).  Underlying his critique is a possible desire for a more mailable text and a more democratic reading.  Giving the reader control of the edit both divides and upholds the rhythm of attention, the tempo of the edit and montage. The structure and crescendos remain, but the time signature may change between measures.  In the mechanics of Penumbra discussed, the reader’s primary control of the edit is their decision of when to open the protagonist’s eyes.  Through successive visits to the external world, a montage is created.  Thus, the reader, to an extent, controls how the story is cut and creates a unique “third space” of associations.  This reader-made montage isn’t necessarily Griffith’s deliberate structure; the shots aren’t always “immutable and unrelated (232)” nor is there always a precise “intra-shot conflict” (236), but the hope is that there is still the impression of the “image of the whole”: a continuing external world.  A world that is informed by its past, present, and third space.  The third space is Eisenstein’s description of the imaginative associations made by the reader between two spaces of bracketing cinematic events (200-201).  Due to how the reader controls edits in Penumbra, not all bracketing events will be evocative.  However, what’s articulated in the reader’s third space makes an important contribution to the story. Ultimately, the reader engages with the protagonist in mimetic reading.  Two third spaces overlap – the reader’s and the protagonist’s. In the protagonist’s third space, internal world commentary reflects what he witnesses in edited sequences of his external world.

Conclusion
In a hybrid cinematic system, like Penumbra, authorship rests on “control of the edit” or, at least, an illusion of control. Through the intervention of the edit, the reader becomes both witness and catalyst.  They, along with the force of the author, sustain and activate the text.  However, the reader's authorship is ultimately limited.  Their control of the edit, while valid and integral to the third space of the story, is ultimately influenced by constraints imposed by the author.  The forces of reader and author aren't necessarily coequal, despite conflated claims, instead they are separate, but symbiotic. Story emerges from the friction formed from the convergence and divergence of this respective control. In Penumbra, layers of subjective and objective forces collide to make the system possible: reader/author, inside/outside, omnipresent/exploratory.  Early cinema theory is helpful in considering how such component forces shape a text.  Although aspects of both Eisenstein and Bazin could be adopted by both reader and author, they are still worth considering as early representatives of each camp. Through André Bazin and Sergei Eisenstein, it might be possible to consider how the interplay between author/reader, audience/director shapes interactive literary experiences.


Works Cited

Bazin, André. What Is Cinema?. Trans. Hugh Gray. Vol. 1. Berkeley: University of California, 2005.
Eisenstein, Sergei. Film Form; Essays in Film Theory,. Trans. Jay Leyda. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1949. Print.

9.20.2012

City and the Book: Notes pt. 1

"City and the Book" 5D conference at USC Sept. 20-21


Observations

Murphy talked about closed narrative and open narrative.  Extrapolating from those concepts, it is interesting to consider "interactive narrative" as a structural interplay: Narrative as interplay of closed and open systems.  I did like her implicit substitution of navigating for "reading".  Though, not new concept by interaction design and IF, I like the metaphor for "navigating" for reading in general.  There is a suggested moving from and to something as an anchor in the text built within this.

Thinking along the lines of my trying to develop duration as a method of comparative analysis in interactive texts, B. Oldenburg did make a few references to "time" as a major force of predetermined narrative.  Another panelist suggested, more or less, that urgency could be part of the recipe for "compelling experiences" in the story world.


Investigate:
Sony "Wonderbook": method of navigating through "Theater in the round book"
New Term:
Skeuomorphism: familiar analog elements used in digital design (page turn)


Though I've heard it said before, I kind of felt a bit leery of Tracy's advocation for a "artful reader".
It seems to desire an interpretation that is "artful" according to the standards of the designer and speaks to a sense of elitism towards the lesser masses of cultural consumers.  It is difficult to have such control over readers in the real world.  But, I think that fortunately for her, the "literacy" she speaks of and wants others to have with her systems will probably be increasingly prevalent in a media infused society.  She speaks to how we must build a "sensitive reader".  Though, I do agree with her concept of "playful literacy" as a learned behavior.                                                              

Tawny though seems to be very with it.  I liked her reference to the significance of the reset button in storytelling.

Questions
What is the real/ideal audience for the Walden piece?  What is the imagined audience?  Is there a desired outcome/goal or path that the developers would prviledge over others.  Seems possible.  Very much a conceptual piece rather than a well plotted "art game" or even as a commercially viable game.  Seems like a lot of work and resources went into this.  Where does conceptual work draw the line in execution?  Some of the concepts of sublime vs. need were the most interesting part

Kevin Slavin: Games poorly "Transmit a message" but good at "producing literacy of the system".  These should have been clarified.  How would he define transmit a message?
Lots of generalizations in the panel from outside specialties that felt kinda awkward.  Impression I got and heard from others.  Though the most successful panel I've been to in terms of generating dialogue compared to sxsw and many other conferences.


Contacts/Research
Panelists with potentially overlapping research & contacts for press release
Intel: Tawny Schlieski "Interaction and Experience Research Group"
Moonbot: Brandon Oldenburg "Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lesmore"

9.18.2012

iPad: Writing Prompts/Scene 1 Context

Must make reader feel intimate with characters and have some sense of what's at stake and the repercussions (even if it is an abstract anxiety in the beginning)

1. Time FrameAt least 6 months prior to the bridge scene.  Takes place during Luke’s work hours at an inspection site in Southern California. Jame’s eyesight isn’t quite as bad as in the bridge scene.  Setting as discussed by the wash near enough to the structures.  Ideal if there was a rail or work table nearby.  


2. Background scene 1:Jame’s livelihood is suffering because of his condition.  He’s unable to find clients that will trust him with the delicate work of controlled explosion and demolition consultation.  He’s despondent that his life’s work seems to be coming to an end and won’t acknowledge it.  Especially, because he deeply needs the approval of, and needs to be useful to, Luke as his contractor/friend.  He knows Luke needs him because he provides a rare speciality and makes Luke’s company more attractive to clients (need for skilled labor in controlled explosions).  James assigns his usefulness with a way to atone for how “the ghosts of his past” are so intimately acquainted with Luke. He also owes Luke a great debt.  They have known eachother for years, first as anti-personnel mine removal specialists with the 94th Engineer Brigade, then as contractors with the army corp of engineers.
But, the current relationship between the men is strained.  They are in a (louie, david) recurrent pattern that oscillates between co-dependence, regret, frustration, bffs and melancholy loyalty. James wants deeply to improve it; he doesn’t know how.  He also wants badly to tell Luke about Jesse’s last moments, but he can’t quite bring them to the surface or find a way to exorcise them through Luke.  He’s not sure if he even should.  So for now he suffices with giving Luke the remaining energy he possesses.  Pushed by stress, frustration and fear of failure he enters into increasingly dangerous work situations.


base that needs to get through:indebtedness/needs to prove himself to lukedesperate for workdangerousgoing out to work on demolition bridge job.if he fails with the condition he has now, it bars him from further employment because of it.feels like he’ll never be able to make amends to luke if he fails


3. Relation to other scenesMost notably the dessert scene.tones taken in the relationship then and now parallel each other.  Blocking, gestures, language may also serve as parallels, so too may lighting.
The desert scene is a conflation between memory and fiction.  It is the imaginary talk in Jame’s mind where he is absolved of some of his guilt.  He returns from the desert pilgrimage to the literal/symbolic demolition of his guilt and negative aspects in his relationship.The end is a bit open ended.  Does he walk back down the bridge to solid land after the reconciliation, or is it hinted that he is caught in the premature explosion on the bridge(brought about by the details he missed seeing) and this decides his fate.  Does he reach peace with the cyclical ending (hints of explosion match bunker scene).  As he felt it “should have been him” all along?  Did he put himself up to this ending, or was it Luke all along pulling the shots.  Either way, there is a sense of closure and redemption. 


4. What is at stake:guilt that once again he has to depend on Luke after everything he’s done.only luke gives him work (pity work) others won’t trust his craft with this conditionlast job he knows he has.  Feels himself “peetering out/ending” whether this is physically true or psychological is debatable.  He wants to do right by Luke in the end. His life/personal safety is on the line.  Also, his reputation.  He wants to make an impact on his craft.  He wants to accomplish something against his fear of failure.  Most of all he wants to be redeemed in Luke’s eyes and to himself.


4. Project Context:Luke: demolition contractor – (like producer) handles project overview and administrative regulationsJames: Controlled Blasting Co., a specialty explosives subcontractorunder protection of the army corp of engineers: Veteran-Owned Small Business Programs handles details/execution of safe implosions and controlled demolition.why: ties into Army Corp Engineer project to fix America’s waterways to support economy by allowing for larger scale movement of critical commodities (trade barges).how: calculate blast periphery and cordon off demolition zone according to safety regulations.  Prepare three stage demolition of substructure and superstructure in compliance with local, state, and federal environmental and regulations for minimal impact. Execute demolition with safe, timely, and precise removal of hazards and waste.basics [have to revisit links below to fill out background specifics.  But this info isn’t important here.stage 1: superstructure, controlled blast shaped charges, collection from water with cranes, ship for artificial reefs.stage 2: span bridge length, hydraulic cranes, diamond cuttersstage 3: concrete pilings, supports, and submerged feet,drill narrow bored holes into concrete for dynamite. a few resources, more in other doc.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23FVnvgCCYEhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGJE7mtqTgs&feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euLV68uqaIQ&feature=relatedhttp://www.constructionequipmentguide.com/Heavily-Deteriorated-Ohio-River-Bridge-is--Demolished/17703http://www.controlled-demolition.com/services-bridges-piershttp://science.howstuffworks.com/engineering/structural/building-implosion.htmthe main span of the Jamestown Bridge was brought down by 75 pounds of RDXexplosives and 350 shaped charges.http://ajwengineering.com/construction-engineers/demolition/selected-demolished-bridges/https://www.dot.ny.gov/regional-offices/region1/projects/lake-champlain-bridge/repository/Demo_LCB_12-12-09.pdfhttp://www.implosionworld.com/