Crowdsourcing (part of) a syllabus…

 

Diversidad etnica
Image via Wikipedia

I’ll be teaching a new course this coming spring term (2012) on digital ethnography (with a likely, but somewhat bland, title of Digital Ethnography). As a methods course preceding the establishment of a new media & culture graduate certificate, I’m thinking it iwill attend to at least two areas under the “digital ethnography” heading: doing ethnographic work using digital tools, and doing ethnographic work in the digital domain.

Barring a few reading options, this is as far as I’ve gotten in the planning. I am seeking comments and input from students (potential or otherwise) about what else the course might take on. So, please post comments here with suggested readings, methodological issues, tools you are curious about (or have used)—in short, anything that you’d love to see in a class of this sort. In that I’m imagining this class to be a collaborative experiment in general, having at least part of the syllabus co-authored/crowdsourced is fine first step in my mind. And I’ll certainly credit any/all contributions that I end up using!

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mimetic inquiry @ AFS 2011

I’m heading to the annual American Folklore Society meetings in Bloomington, IN, and will participate in a poster session focused on digital humanities. This will be the test drive for the “mimetic inquiry” concept I’ve been batting around. A JPEG of the poster is above, and here is how I describe the concept on the poster:

Embracing an ethos within digital humanities that positions the “digital” as simultaneously object of study and context of scholarly practice, mimetic inquiry utilizes tools of digital content creation and manipulation to generate interpretative analysis that is both process and product-oriented. As such, it entails ethnographically-grounded interpretation that echoes artistic processes, while proposing a move beyond textual representation as the norm for cultural research.

I’m hoping to get some feedback so that I can continue to refine the ideas I’m working with and push this idea further into the realm of usable.

 

Deviation: an installation @ OPUS VII

Bio-poster that was part of the exhibition...Click for larger size

In late June, I set up a small exhibit in Eugene’s OPUS VII space, consisting of materials connected to my ongoing research with boutique effects pedal builders. More specifically, the exhibit focused on the work of Devi Ever, a builder who has participated in my research into boutique pedal culture since I started the project back in 2008. This exhibit, titled Deviation: the sonic design-build of Devi Ever, was part of a larger show put together by Cindy Ingram called “Designing Sound: A Visual Exploration into Sound and Music,” and it ran from the end of June until the third week in August.

Putting the show together was quite fun, and I truly appreciated the support that Devi gave. Once she realized that I was going to do all of the work (a relief for her, given the crazy expansion her business has undergone this summer…), she gave me her blessing to pull an installation together as I saw fit. My goal was to showcase her work with electronic circuits by focusing on the aesthetic elements at play: visual, sonic, and technological. Given the number of other artists/participants, I opted not to go with an interactive, sound-producing installation—i.e. one that would have allowed visitors to interact with Devi’s pedals and actually hear what kind of sounds one can make with them. Instead, I sought to build an exhibit that would echo the aesthetic textures and practices of Devi’s pedal building, as well as that of the boutique community as a whole. Ultimately, this approach resulted in an exhibit that privileged the visual, but by incorporating two iPads running video I was able to sneak some sound in; one of the iPads ran a loop of a demo reel I assembled (see vid below), while the other iPad ran a YouTube playlist I curated featuring video demos of Devi Ever and Effector 13 pedals. The playlist had videos produced by Devi herself as well as a diverse set of “fuzz folk” community members from around the world, and you can find it here.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLpv7_UlZ0c[/youtube]

 

While I admit it was kind of strange to mostly look at Devi’s creations—many pedals in a jewelry case, photos, and schematics—doing so also foregrounded the ways in which visual and sonic aesthetics co-mingle when it comes to boutique effects pedals. This dynamic between the visual and the sonic is something I’ve been encountering in my research, and have written/thought about a bit (eg. here). Given the wide range of graphic approaches and tastes that boutique builders embrace, the connection between what a box looks like on the outside and what it does on the inside (i.e how the circuit impacts the instrument or audio signal) is never a given. And with a builder such as Devi—who constantly alters the graphics of any given pedal in her product line, including one-off custom paint jobs—the visual flux stands in contrast to the sonic constancy. While a circuit remains the same, the graphics might radically change with her pedals across the years. As such, the pedals I put in the exhibit represent this visual diversity, and in some cases I was able to show a single circuit with a few different graphic manifestations. Here are some images of the installation, documenting the process of putting it up as well as the opening on July 1, 2011:

[nggallery id=2]

Getting the exhibit in front of many, many visitors  was quite rewarding (over 200 on the opening, and OPUS VII staff indicated that over the course of the show’s month-long run there was a steady stream of people exploring all components of this innovative show), and represented for me an exercise in presenting aspects of my research to a broader audience. While not necessarily “academic publication,” participating in this show offered me the chance to extract a few key ideas from my ethnographic investigation into boutique pedal culture (what I’ve been calling “fuzz folk“) and interpreting these ideas in an accessible and engaging format. Anecdotal feedback from visitors (and friends!) indicates that I had some success here, and Devi’s enthusiasm at the time pushed us to talk about doing another, more interactive installation up in Portland (maybe @ the White Box?) sometime in the near future.

A final thought on this opportunity to showcase Devi’s work and present my research in a public environment: the process of putting together the installation gave me a chance to further explore a research approach I’ve been calling “mimetic inquiry.” While I’ve not fully fleshed out the concept, I’ve taken to thinking about it as a research method that employs the creative practices, tools, and strategies associated with the artists or individuals I’m exploring. Mimetic inquiry, then, is a representational strategy that generates interpretive understanding through redeployment of artistic strategies found in the work under consideration. As such, mimesis here serves to recontextualize rather than solely represent artists and their creative practices, and forms the basis for dialectical insight rather than straight ahead explanation. More on this in future posts…

Extra special thanks to ILF community members Ganiel Seruru, Tom Bacon, Gunnar Recall, and Pumpkin Pieces for sending images that appeared in the installation!

In process…

At the upcoming Experience Music Project Pop conference (mid-April 2010) I’ll be presenting a paper based on the research I’ve been doing for the past few years with boutique guitar effects builders/communities. I’m on a panel titled “Analog-Digital Divides” (chaired by Oliver Wang), and my paper is called “Analog Circuits, Digital Community: Boutique Effects Pedals as Convergence Culture.” The abstract reads like this:

In the world of boutique guitar/music effects pedals, analog circuitry is king. Likely stemming from a confluence of cultural, technological, and economic factors—the dominance of fuzz or “dirt” boxes, the low cost of analog parts, the ease of modification/ design, or the ideological weight “analog” carries in the world of audio technology —builders of small-run, hand-assembled effects pedals overwhelmingly work with capacitors, transistors, potentiometers, and diodes rather than chips, processors, bits, and modeling when constructing signal-modifying devices.
However, when it comes to selling, trading, discussing, debating or otherwise engaging in some sort of exchange regarding the pedals, creators (and consumers) turn to the digital domain. From YouTube demo videos to discussion board communities, the analog circuits comprising boutique pedal culture necessarily “go digital” when it comes to commerce, communication, and community.
Through this paper, I examine the overarching dynamic between analog and digital domains of technology as related to the culture surrounding boutique effects pedals. Drawing on ethnographic work I’ve done over the past two years, I will discuss the significance that concepts of “analog” and “digital” carry for builders and their constituencies; the ways in which analog and digital technologies offer differential-yet-complementary affordances for musical practice; and approaches to theorizing an analog-digital relationship that avoids the binarization common to debates privileging one domain over the other.

As the paper unfolds in the coming weeks, I’ll be posting bits of it here. Any comments or feedback would be great…

On qualitative research…

Sam Ladner is a sociologist/consultant working in Toronto who writes quite insightful and compelling posts at the intersection of qualitative research design, digital media, and society. One of her recent posts (here) succinctly addresses some of the key (though often overlooked) aspects of qualitative research that distinguish it from quantitative approaches.

She opens up with this:

“But how many people did you talk to?” If you’ve ever done qualitative research, you’ve heard that question at least once. And the first time? You were flummoxed. In 3 short minutes, you can be assured that will never happen again.

Folks, qualitative research does not worry about numbers of people; it worries about deep understanding. Weber called this “verstehen.” (Come to think of it, most German people call it that too. Coincidence?). Geertz called it “thick description.” It’s about knowing — really knowing — the phenomenon you’re researching. You’ve lived, breathed, and slept this thing, this social occurrence, this…this…part of everyday life. You know it inside and out.

The rest of the post is worth reading, as is most of her blog. Of special interest in these social media-frenzy times is this post.

Pedals as art…with function….and style

Received some pedals in the mail the other day:

The UtterStutter (Egg Head version) and Chk Chk Boom (Stepmom's tattoo version) by OhNoHo

The UtterStutter (Egg Head version) and Chk Chk Boom (Stepmom’s tattoo version) by OhNoHo

These are built by Lawrence Scaduto under the brand name of OhNoHo. The pedals are both feedback loopers, which means they take some of the output signal and feed it back into the input stream, such that any pedals in the loop will be getting a continuously changing signal path and re-effecting it. Crazy things can happen, unpredictable things that stem from the combination of pedals in the loop (and turned on). The Utter Stutter is the more complex of the two, functioning as a time-based feedback loop that alters the signal by turning the feedback function on and off according to settings dialed in with the knobs; the Chk Chk Boom is a momentary feedback looper, in that it’s only on as long as the footswitch is depressed (it’s a non-latching switch, so the effect turns off as soon as you lift your foot…). Below are some video demos, as it’s easier to watch the things in action than read about what they do:

Click here to view the embedded video.


The Chk Chk Boom, as demoed by Lawrence.

Click here to view the embedded video.


This demo is by me, and features an Utter Stutter along with many other gadgets/devices. You’ll see that the light on the Utter Stutter flashes on and off; this indicates when the feedback function is active (or not).

Rather than a technical discussion of these pedals, I want this post to be about their artistic elements. Lawrence builds pedals in small batches, as he notes on his blog, so that he can come up with new graphics often. Not content to keep the same graphic alive over a long run of pedals, thinks of each batch as a limited edition—albeit one in which each item is moderately priced.

 

Art in/on a box...

Art in/on a box…

In this photo of my pedals, the unique art of each pedal becomes more apparent. This batch of Utter Stutters (known as the Egg Head edition) each featured a stencil of the ‘Cone Head,’ and because of the nature of stencil art, each pedal in the batch is unique. The Chk Chk Boom came from a recent batch that I’m calling the “Stepmom’s tattoo” batch because of a comment Lawrence made on his blog when he released them: “Looks just like your step mom’s tattoo!”. Each pedal in the batch has a different “tattoo” design, as well as a different knob (culled from purchases on eBay). Here is a picture of the whole litter:

What I’m interested in with these pedals is that dynamic between individuality and sameness at work. Every Chk Chk Boom, for example, does the same thing, but each looks different. The aesthetic choices of the builder (and any collaborator he has on the artwork) stand out on the surface—the packaging of the circuit—so as to differentiate each unit as a distinct artistic object. The unique packaging marks each OhNoHo pedal externally, while the vagaries of circuit construction in conjunction with their respective specialized circuit designs (and the concepts behind them) mark them internally. Most people do not open the boxes up (I imagine) to see how unique the inside is, but folks can discuss & demo in order to hear how unique these pedals are. However, the external artwork immediately distinguishes them—from each other, as well as from other boutique builders. This last observation is important, as the packaging of boutique pedals in general follows few rules; builders work hard to generate eye-catching and engaging artwork, not so much to differentiate in a highly competitive market so as to sell more units. I’d say that the outside of the boxes is as important as the inside in most cases, as the surface serves as a canvas for further expressing a builder’s identity and aesthetics. I’d like to pursue this idea in some more writing/research, so will leave it aside now as a prompt…


I cannot forget to take a look at the back of the pedals, which are “signed” or at least stamped with identifying info. Not all pedal builders put graphic material on the back, probably for a range of reasons: no one sees it, players like to put velcro on their pedals to hold them in place on boards, it’s too much work…But Lawrence does mark the backs of his pedals, and the back can be as engaging as the front. Here is an image from his blog of the backs of the latest batch of Chk Chk Booms:

Special thanks to Lawrence for turning around the mod on my Utter Stutter so quickly, and for the DVD/swag he included in the box! I’m hoping to interview him soon for this project, and am quite looking forward to his insights into the boutique pedal building world/culture/process.

The one that got away, and issues of “value”….

Sorry....

I recently lost an auction on eBay that I did not really expect to win. Up for bidding was an apparently extremely rare Effector 13 (aka Devi Ever) pedal: the Truly Beautiful Never Drive. Look here for the complete eBay listing.

As visible in the screen shot above, the final price was upwards of 400 USD (200 GBP). That’s a lot of cash for an effects box, and the question arises: is it worth it? The clash of “worth” and “value” in the boutique pedal community is one that often comes up, and response to this question hinge on a range of constitutive factors—cost, overhead, effort, and availability are commonly asserted as primary ones. A key question, and one that I launched this blog with, is, “What determines the value of an object?” This question can be further qualified when the concept of “art” is connected to an object.

Just prior to the conclusion of this auction, I ran across a thread on the ILoveFuzz boards that pointed toward a thread on the Harmony Central FX forum in which a debate over “value” and “worth” arose in comparing boutique builders (in this case, Devi Ever and the guy who makes Klon overdrive pedals; go here for an amusing anti-Klon rant!). The HCFX thread is here, and the first post visually sets the tone debate by showing how many DE pedals you could buy for the price of a Klon, essentially illustrating the question: “Is it worth it?”

What is interesting about the thread is how quickly the discourse shifts from discussion over actual pedals to discussion and re-definition of the “boutique” label, again with an underlying question of how value and worth relate to the scale of production implied in that label. At one point someone asks where “boutique” ends, and another user responds that it is somewhere around the $95 level—an arbitrary number at first glance, but also the price-point for many Devi Ever pedals (in recent years) and a target for several builders in the ILoveFuzz world.

I bring this all up as a means to start to identify parameters for “boutique” pedal builders, especially with regards to notions of value, commodity, art, and creativity. To what extent are the numbers important? Well, for one thing they allow people to make a living (at times) doing something they want to do. In another way, the numbers (of units made, of dollars charged) start to define class distinctions—elite builders, proletariat builders, etc. I use the labels somewhat in jest, but such discursive constructions lurk beneath debates about how much one should pay/charge for a given pedal, so the concepts are not that far off.

I’m glad I didn’t win that auction, as it means I would have likely bid way beyond a reasonable level. But, then again, how many Truly Beautiful Never Drives are there? And will I ever get the chance again to own/have/play one?

Materiality of Digital v. Analog?

One of many iterations of my noise board....with one digital pedal in there.

One of many iterations of my 'noise' board….with one digital pedal in there.

I’ve been thinking about ways to talk about the “material culture” components of the boutique pedal building world with regards to digital v. analog. Practically all of the pedals are built using analog circuitry—and exist as physical objects—whereas the commerce surrounding these objects takes place in digital domains: web-based retailers, discussion boards, and YouTube vids/demos.

I’m intending to think on this more…another post (or two) to come.

NPD (New Pedal Day)!

I’ve learned the “npd” colloquialism through my haunting of the ILoveFuzz discussion boards. Community members will often create a new post when they get a pedal in the mail—complete with pictures—in order to let other members know that it’s another happy day in gear-land. Not so much a taunt, nor an objective accounting, but more of a shout-out saying, “Hey look! Let’s celebrate the arrival together….”

I’m using NPD somewhat in the same way here, but also as a way into looking at “new” pedals from a builder I’ve been following in the “fuzz folk” research project: Eric Edvalson of Mellowtone . Here’s an NPD thread from the iLoveFuzz online community that serves as a model of sorts—you’ll see the initial post (about a Mellowtone Mini Wolf CPU), and the follow-up posts that weave in and out of a discussion about the pedal itself.

The Mini Wolf CPU fuzz and the New Hi-Five boost

The Mini Wolf CPU fuzz and New Hi-Five boost

Eric has recently revamped his pedal line, and now makes basically two production pedals: the Hi-Five boost and the Mini Wolf CPU fuzz. Each of these pedals existed before the product adjustments Eric made, and it is these adjustments that I’d like to focus on in elaborating the “new pedal” concept. He’s referring to the new line of pedals collectively as the “Party Favor” line, referencing both their standard box size (commonly known as “MXR-size” in reference to a standard small-footprint box used by commercial music equipment company, MXR) and the visual aesthetic of the graphics.

As seen in the photo above, the pedals bear the same graphic differentiated only through color scheme. Lack of a name anywhere on the pedal other than the company name makes it difficult to tell what you have in front of you—unless, of course, you are already familiar with Mellowtone and the color schemes prior versions of these pedals used. The Hi-Five sported greens and yellows (across the three or so size versions Eric released), and the Wolf Computer initially dressed in a light blue (see photo below). Several hand-painted versions of the Wolf Computer roam the planet, but I’ll stick to the “standard” version here for sake of the argument.

The older, larger Wolf Computer and its newer, smaller offspring: the Mini Wolf CPU

The older, larger Wolf Computer and it's newer, smaller offspring: the Mini Wolf CPU

The newness of these pedals is initially visual or physical, discernible by comparing the previous and current models. I’ve spoken with Eric about his graphics choices for his pedals (he does the design and layout), and he indicated that he wanted to have a visually-unified look across the pedals. Our conversation occurred before he refined the Mellowtone line, and I think that the current Party Favor graphics demonstrate this desire rather vividly.

With both pedals in the Party Favor line, newness also extends into the boxes themselves, at the level of the circuit. As with many builders I’ve spoken to for the fuzz folk project, Eric often revisits and redesigns circuits. Whether the primary motivation is catering to customer/user feedback and tastes or streamlining build-time, a small builder like Eric will actively evolve his circuits over time; this is one of the benefits and byproducts/epiphenomenon of the hand-built or boutique object. I want to develop this idea in another post or two (or even an article), so will leave it aside for now, only noting that I’m thinking there is a relationship between improvisation, creativity, and the intimacy of hand-building at a small scale that deserves exploration—any comments are appreciated!

Newness, then, is physical and conceptual, related to both the production and consumption of these objects within the “fuzz folk” community. Builders create entirely ‘new’ pedals for their lines or revise/refine existing pedals with different packaging or guts; users buy or trade for new pedals, expanding their pedal boards and the visual/sonic textures of their music-making. As such, the materiality of the “new” extends into social relationships cultivated online (via the ILF boards, for example), as well as economic processes embedded in boutique production. Additionally, the “new” is an element of the creative output of builders, pushing the techno-aesthetic process of pedal building in directions determined as much by their own interests (sonic, visual, economic, cultural) as those expressed by members of the larger community within which they work.

P.S. Should anyone be interested in what one of the Party Favors sounds like, here is a video demo of the Mini Wolf CPU (not done by me…):

Click here to view the embedded video.