Convergence Culture and Community Building

The Jenkins was a little tough to get through — or maybe it was just The Matrix chapter since I fell off the bandwagon with that pretty quickly after the 1st movie. A huge part of companies hoping to tap into the convergence culture where the diehards rule is overestimating the attention span or interest of the viewers/consumers. For every Lost where the fanbase is large and vocal and it translates to rating, there are shows like Caprica (that Cheryl talked about in class) or my favorite but now cancelled of the past season, Terriers where the fan base is loyal and evangelist, but too small to make the ratings worth it for the networks. The readings were timely with the release of Sucker Punch last weekend. I’d say I’m a fan of Zach Snyder’s visual style, but the premise and story weren’t in any way compelling to me. It looked like a crowdsourced young male fantasy of what would make a woman’s story interesting: skimpy outfits, action sequences, and unexplained oversexualized situations. It’s considered a failure right now because it lost out to a kids movie at the box office and the word of mouth sucks. The downside of convergence is the overextension of the property without the coherent structure to base it on.

Jenkins’s theory of Homer’s writings and Jesus’s story in the Bible as the first examples of transmedia works was interesting. The difference between then and now is that being connected with your culture was being immersed in an oral tradition. Everyone knew the stories and the archetypes/narrative shortcuts were instantly familiar with the smallest detail. It’s almost impossible to for a transmedia work to cross over on that level now. There are a few stories that might cross over in certain cultures, but I think the way properties are currently built is in the 360 advertising model to build awareness through pervasiveness and media synergy, but the development of the stories take a back seat.

The idea of community building is an essential piece to convergence culture and transmedia properties. Once something is out there, a community will either sustain or doom it. The lesson of Sucker Punch and some other overhyped failures like I Am Number Four from a few months ago is overreliance on the most niche of fans, the obsessive mostly male audience who would attend Comic Con and have their own vocal areas of the web. Lost had wide appeal across gender and age lines with the transmedia breadcrumbs that were compelling to the diehard and casual fan in different ways. There have to be many options for entry that feel organic, as well as space for feedback and a dialogue between fans and the creator(s).

Memory, Objects and Location

Visiting the three exhibitions, I began to think about the idea of stories and memories being as important for their content as what is left out.

In the Tenement Museum, the elephant in the room was that the apartments were facsimiles of the actual experience, supported by historical artifacts, some oral history and research, but not totally true to their lives. When I was there on a field trip with the Cabinets of Wonder class last semester, we had the other guide leading our tour which led to an actress embodying one of the former residents. I found that experience way more enjoyable because it felt more real to see a person “living” in the space to simply be told what it was like. At the Brooklyn Historical Society, I found myself drawn more to the artifacts hidden in the binders than the actual voices because of what was left out. I was definitely more negative in my feelings about the City Reliquary. It seemed like a museum of kitsch and I felt removed from it compared to the other two that resonated more.

Thinking of my midterm response, I immediately gravitated towards using my thesis project because it’s all about using personal stories and photographs to paint a picture of a Brooklyn that is lost physically and psychologically now. As spring break went on, I was reading Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger and thinking about the story heard at BHS of the man who went to visit the family of his fellow soldier who died in Vietnam. I also remembered in high school where my drama class made short plays out of the epitaphs in Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Master. I then turned my thoughts to doing a project on something more personal for me that I have been thinking about and working on as my thesis has kicked into gear.

When I originally thought of my thesis, I was considering using the idea to explore my own family history/memories. My father’s side of the family is gigantic, spread from here in New York throughout the country. Gatherings are large, loud, and confusing affairs because everyone tells stories about things that happened years ago that are fuzzy to them even. But there are some stories and people who are barely mentioned except in hushed tones and one of those has always resonated with me when the bare details. In my father’s childhood, my grandfather’s young newly divorced sister had moved from Mississippi with her children to start a new life here in Brooklyn. From what I’ve heard, she was enjoying a newly single life in an infinitely bigger place than Buford, MS and took to going out to party and drink with new friends. One night, she went missing and then turned up assaulted and murdered in an abandoned lot. Her attacker was never found and her kids were picked up by their father to go back to Mississippi and eventually moved to Las Vegas where they still live. From what I know, it was a majorly traumatizing event in the family and the cousins who moved away also became a shadowy presence in my father’s life since they rarely if ever came to NYC again.

In my midterm (and final), I want to explore through a fictional work a version of this story told through 1st person narratives. My characters are the sister, daughter, nephew, and granddaughter of the woman plus the case detective and a reporter who is the catalyst for bringing the story back to the surface. I’m considering turning it into a video piece for the final, but right now I’m just focused on writing it all out.

The Woman In The Weeds

Abandoned lot, 2011

June 16, 1982 – a body was found in an abandoned lot near the corner of Putnam Avenue and Irving Place in Clinton Hill. Detective Dan Mills was the officer in charge of the investigation. He discovered the story of Carrie Williams, 22, a transplant from Mississippi, newly divorced with a young daughter in tow. She worked as a waitress at a diner in Clinton Hill called Mike’s Coffee Shop and was last seen having a nightcap drink with a coworker at Frank’s Cocktail Lounge before heading home down Fulton Street. She lived with her sister, Janie Franklin, a widow with 3 small children of her own on Classon and Greene. Unfortunately, the case was never solved and the family had to work to put the pieces of their lives with Carrie behind them. Amy Jones revisits the aftermath of the crime with the relatives and the detective for the Local blog.

Officer Dan Mills, 2003

I remember when I got the call about it. It was early, like in the morning or something. I had been on the force about 6 or 7 years by then, working the homicide squad. Things were getting bad in that area then. Had to deal with all the stuff going down on Murder Avenue as they called it and Fulton Street was a bit of a rough area too.

It was one of those cases that always stuck with me. Getting called to a field when the sun’s coming out and seeing a bunch of people gawking at a half naked lady thrown in the weeds like garbage. It’s one of those things that breaks your heart you know? She looked so small there, innocent. I had to go talk to the family, the coworkers, the neighbors, and nobody had nothing but the best things to say about her. The city just chews people up and spits them out sometimes.

Carrie and Vanessa, 1982

Over the years, I’ve tried to remember what that last day with her was like. She used to work nights, but would get up to make me breakfast and walk me over to the day care I went to. That night, me, her. Aunt Janie, and my cousins Robin and Troy went to the movies before she had to go to work. We went to the big theater at Kings Plaza to see ET that afternoon and then she had to run off to work the dinner shift at the place she worked. I kinda remember all the commotion around the house the next morning. Aunt Janie sent me and Robin to go play, but we could tell by the way she was talking that things were weird. The days were a blur and then my dad came from Mississippi to get me. I started living with him and my Grandma Jefferson in Buford til we moved to Vegas in 1985. I would come visit Aunt Janie and my cousins some summers and I would be afraid to mention my mother. One time, I made Troy show me…where they found her and just cried and cried. Aunt Janie got really mad and I knew then that to not mention her would just be for the best.

Janie and Carrie, 1981

Just talking about it is painful for me really. I already have to live with it every day. The hurt, the sadness has never gone away for me, especially since the case was unsolved. They said maybe someone on dope just followed her, then attacked her. I never knew if that’s supposed to make it better or worse. Carrie had always dreamed of coming to NYC. She was just like my late husband in that way. Artistic people who knew that this was the place to be. I was always less ambitious, but I loved watching them live their dreams.

She was working at that place, taking care of Vanessa, and doing the occasional singing gig on the weekend. She had such a great voice. Reminded me of a young Aretha sometimes. She sang in the choir back in Mississippi and was always singing around the house. I think that’s what I miss most about my sister: her voice and her spirit. Life has been so…quiet without her.

Zara March, 2010

I always knew that something bad had happened with my grandmother, but my mom doesn’t like to talk about it. We moved here about 15 years ago, I was born in Vegas. My granddad still lives out there and he doesn’t like to visit. I hear them arguing sometimes about why she would even would want to live here considering what happened. I never knew what it really was until you came with all your questions. It made her and Aunt Janey drag out the pictures and tell stories. I was afraid to ask questions myself at first because it was kinda like when you’re chasing a fly and you scare it into flying away? Haha well I guess that’s a bad uh metaphor, but I was just excited to hear the stories and thought that acknowledging that it was out there would make it stop immediately, you know?

I like knowing about her though. It’s like a piece of me that was blank is finally filled in now.

John Franklin, Robin Franklin, Troy Franklin, Vanessa Jefferson, 1982

I was 10 when…everything happened with Aunt Carrie. She and Nessa had come to where we were living then on Greene and Classon when she got divorced from my uncle Neil down in Mississippi. My mom had been in Brooklyn for about 5 years then, my dad had died in 1980, and Carrie and Nessa came in about May 81 I guess.

I remember Aunt Carrie really well. She was really funny. Born and raised in Mississippi but she had gotten rid of the accent quick. She was sharp and smart and could sing like an angel. She was always working and loved Nessa and NYC so much.

It really hurt my heart what happened to her. They tried to say at first that she was….that she was fast or something and that’s why she ended up the way that she did. She worked in a restaurant and didn’t really drink that much. Being older than she was now, I don’t see nothing wrong with a drink on the way home. I wish it wouldn’t have turned out like that, you know?

Thesis Midterm

Spring Break was hell on my project timeline! I meant to get a lot more done before the break and then was away for 12 days, the last thing on my mind being wireframing. Luckily, I have found a savior in the CMS called Omeka and organizing my content and maps will be a lot easier through there than hacking it all myself. My main goal for the next class is to get started with the content editing. That’s the part that will literally make or break me.

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