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October 27, 2009
Transmedia Tacos? You Bet!
Of these papers, this one by Benjamin Burroughs caught me by surprise, since it is exploring the way that transmedia tactics are moving from the entertainment industry to other sectors - in this case, the food industry. Here, Burroughs describes the ways that a local LA vendor has become the source of fascination for highly wired local residents, creating a mystique and perhaps even a mythology around the migrations of a taco truck. Indeed, as this paper suggests, I started to hear rumors of this truck before I even moved to LA, suggesting that the spread of this information extends well beyond the local community. I would be curious to know whether readers can point to other examples where transmedia strategies are being deployed to create or promote local brands. Transmedia Tacos: Hybridity, New Media, and Storytelling The first way I ever heard about the legend of Kogi begins with two ever-present facets of my life, hunger and late nights. While deliberating on where to possibly satiate this beastly hunger at such an hour a group started talking about food and re-telling experiences of recent adventures in dining. This is where I was told about the Kogi myth. Uncle John (no relation, a local Hawaiian title for esteemed family friend) told my wife and me about his first trip in tracking down an elusive Kogi kimchi taco. He explained that the truck stops at different areas and, despite being hesitant, he agreed to go with his friend to get this taco he heard so much about. He said when his friend took him to the spot there was a really long line. He waited in the line for a half an hour and then an hour and just as he was going to get a taco they ran out. I was not only puzzled but stunned that an engineer like Uncle John was going to wait that long for just a taco. He said they go to a place and serve until they are out of meat. I found it silly to a certain degree but promptly looked at my wife as if to say, 'I got to get me one of those kim chi tacos' (and I don't even remotely like kim chi). That began our first foray into searching out the 'Kogi dragon'. I googled the thing, read the website, looked up its twitter feed, jumped in the car and literally tracked its movement to a place in Little Tokyo not far from our apartment. Uncle John would no longer be the only privileged purveyor of information. When we arrived I was awed, a huge crowd of people--a diverse cross section of Los Angelenos had converged on this taco stand at just after 11 pm at night. We waited in that line for what seemed like hours (because it was!) and I tasted the forbidden elusive fruit for the first time. I hate kim chi and cilantro but oddly enough I really like these tacos, especially the short rib tacos and kim chi quesadillas. Seriously, you should go try some. So what could be remotely transmedia about a taco? How can a taco be conceptualized as an integral part of the transmedia storytelling process? It's just a taco not a new medium, right? As we unpack the buzz surrounding this purported new media innovation, we hope to uncover through our own personal familiarity how this tiny truck stand is blazing a path for transmedia possibilities in food distribution and consumption. It is important to note that we are not looking at a mature transmedia franchise but are looking for where this my take us in an attempt to synchronize the transmedia model to more seamlessly sew together online and offline disjunctures as well as multiple media platforms. Transmedia Mechanics Kogi is first and foremost a truck and it is safe to understand the stand and its food content as the 'mothership'. Trucks are one of the oldest modes of food distribution and taco trucks have a particularly rich tradition. With a truck you can constantly be advertising and the truck can construct a unique dialogue with the consumer saying--look, we are one of you, we drive around to the same places and serve you food in your own locales. We are not different, abstract entities or identities but part of the community. However this form of appeal has seemed limited, trucks as the primary form of food distribution as a business model have largely been untenable, especially in terms of franchising and expanding a company beyond a particular locality. Kogi's uses of new mediated technology and multiple platforms of this technology have attempted to bridge the gulf between the producer and consumer. No longer is the chef a distant 'other' in the back of a large restaurant but is now in close proximity and spatially there is the perception of closeness. Taking the food to the streets takes on a form of renaissance--a return to a perhaps mythic, forgotten age when food was more interactive and participatory. The truck not only gives a sense of 'street cred' and raw authenticity associated particularly with Mexican taco stands (eating 'real' Mexican as opposed to Taco Bell, although Taco Bell has now gotten into the mobile taco stand game as well, mimicking the perceived success of these start-up franchises). Kogi also has a certain novelty about it because of its manipulation of new technology. Mobile food stands are not new to the cultural food landscape, but this recent re-articulation has been acclaimed as such because it is not just building a relationship with one community but enables a linkage to the cultural heartbeat of an entire city, even one as vast and diverse as Los Angeles. If we understand transmedia as the reading of multiple texts that help to tell a larger story can we not see the truck as a text not only in its self promotion and banners but in its very form? The truck is speaking to an age of increased mobility, flexibility (flexible specialization), and fluidity in our culture. Can we not read the taco as a text that speaks to the hybridity of a culture and society where Korean kim chi and Latino tacos are representative of larger forces of cultural fusion? Lastly, as we learned on the very first night of our taco pilgrimage, there is a sociality present in these long lines. These crowds identify and interact with each other, relating experiences with the food--what one should try, particular favorites, where else one could eat in a great blending and sense of communal participation inherent in any vibrant, lasting transmedia franchise. These sorts of informal media channels can and perhaps should be included to enlarge our understanding of transmedia. In our Kogi example this form of knowledge exchange and 'encyclopedia capacity' (Murray 1999) exists less in mediated spaces than other transmedia franchises but there is certainly potential for future transmedia food projects to explore more deeply how to connect consumers in the purely online context. Again, however, it seems important that we not de-value the informal gift exchanges of information that happen in specific communal contexts such as the public practice of waiting in line. This brings us to the next transmedia component: an online presence. So we have the taco and the stand and even the line as transmedia extensions but what ties these together is the utilization of new media technology. ' First you have the Kogibbq.com website run by the sister of one of the founding members, Aliiiice (this is how her screen name is presented on the blog). Interestingly enough, she lives in New York. She has her brother send her pictures of the food as she updates the community on what is going on with Kogi, portraying an interactive story of the growth and some of the inner workings of the company. She makes things very participatory, engaging the audience by allowing the community to help decide on the names of the new trucks, introducing the personalities of the staff, and explaining the stories behind new foods coming out. This is where Kogi adds a level of seriality (Haywood 1997). Not only is seriality built into the food process, wanting to eat more after chowing down on a tasty morsel but Alliiice gives you the latest creation from chef Roy Choi so you have a reason to go back every week. People like what they have already eaten so when presented with a new concoction they are hooked into coming back. This is also the logic behind the majority of food advertising but such grand productions lack the intimacy and trust that Alliiice has massaged by being close to the community. She participates quite deeply with the readers of the blog, often commenting herself in the comments section of the blog in a very personal and 'real' manner. What is most compelling however, is not only the intimacy, but the descriptions of the food. I have on more than one occasion sought out the truck because of what I had read. Sometimes the food is a one day special, so you are literally compelled by the pictures and descriptions to not miss the food served only on that particular day. I am currently thinking about needing to go and get the 'Ride or Die Sweet and Sour Chicken' I just read about. These are essentially food stories, narratives that shape our encounter with the product and add layers of meaning to that experience. Recently this story was put on the website about a Cuban pressed pork dish. Alliiice writes: "Once upon a time, there was a bun of Pan BLanco. A piLLow-soft, innocent loaf of angeLs' bread fresh from the warm confines of a simpLe baker's oven. It is hard not to get hungry just reading that. But this is not the only level of storytelling that is going on. The use of Twitter has moved these stories from static places online to dramatic emotion laden episodes that one can act out as adventures. A series of youtube videos sprung up around the beginning of Kogi as part of its marketing strategy but also spontaneously as active audiences filmed and put on the web their own personal treks to find the Kogi tacos.
The twitter feeds make this very participatory. There is an emotional resonance when people are given a space to play and perform as audiences feel empowered to collect the information and connect the dots of where the truck will be at any given place and time. There is a certain degree of prestige in uncovering the buzz, but also great pleasure in sharing that gift in and through social exchanges. This is mobile hypersocial technology (Ito 2008), as twitter allows for a conversation never before possible. Twitter feeds and tweets tell about the truck coming to an area, if it is stuck in traffic, if the cops made them move to a new area, or if they ran out of food for the day. People want to collect this information and have that 'insider' information on the next big eating thing. This knowledge is especially valued in eating circles as a form of status and coolness associated with the pooling of privileged information. Transmedia Futures and Cosmopolitan Aesthetics Food is compelling; it is an integral part of our lives. Although not being altogether obvious, it is not too far a stretch to contextualize the purchasing, eating, dining--the consumption practices of food as interwoven in the very fabric of our lives. Food is conducive to good stories. Food is universal and ubiquitous; we all eat (although economic and cultural stratification are prevalent and important processes beyond the scope of this paper). The consumption of food is often a highly public, commercial enterprise. Food consumption is a hypersocial activity. Living in an age of convergence culture (Jenkins 2006) where consumers are the point of convergence, appropriators and re-mixers of form and meaning, how will this shape our relation to something as recurrent as eating? A convergence culture is participatory and demands for the reorganization of production. Kogi is a small example of the new spectatorship that creative artists can maneuver to empower a deeper synergy between production and consumption (or future prosumption) as chefs and diners, food critics and passive consumers can all benefit from the increased connectivity and emotional resonance afforded through transmedia productions. What is going on is the sharing of privileged knowledge and information conveyed as a narrative construction. Perhaps we really are what and how we eat. Kogi can be representative of larger shifts and cultural trends. It is a Korean and Latin fushion cooking driven by new mediated technologies and platforms that allow for increased sharing and participating. Transmedia has a certain cosmopolitan aesthetic and democratic participation that should be cultivated as we move further into the hybridity and diversity of a networked world. Sources Ito, Mizuko. 2008. "Networked Publics: Introduction." Pp. 1-14 in Networked Publics, edited by K. Varnelis. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Henry Jenkins, "Searching for the Origami Unicorn: The Matrix and Transmeda Storytelling," Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide (New York: New York University Press, 2006), pp. 93-130. Janet Murray, "Digital Environments are Encyclopedic," Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1997), pp. 83-90.
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Henry Jenkins is the Provost's Professor of Communications, Journalism, and Cinematic Art at the University of Southern California. Until recently, he served as the co-founder of the Comparative Media Studies Program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. More about Henry Jenkins is available here. |
Crossreference to this post in comments here:
http://zenfilms.typepad.com/zen_films/2009/10/mindflesh-360-experience.html#comments
The phenomena of stories jumping mediums, like a fire gathering momentum jumps roads into new fuel, is as old as storytelling....its just that the new media is much more powerful...there’s more people - more fuel. Giving it a new name, like transmedia, doesn’t help clarify what’s going on in this excellent case study, it just issues a false hope for all the brand types that there’s a replicable model at play here, and that the plagiarising of one engaging story will automatically guarantee the same result for a fake; it won’t. There’s a lot of Chaos Theory in firestorms, cyclones, word-of-mouth movements and viral videos, where chance rules; and because chance – and the conditions under which chance acted - can’t be replicated, rich ingredients of the original will be absent in the clone. That’s why most brands are really bland.
Can anything be learned (as opposed to enjoyed) from Ben Burroughs’ paper? Is there a book in it?...Sure, but I feel he would need to engage the paradoxical notion of Chance Designs – i.e., the purposeful setting up of strategy-free zones in campaigns to enable chance to play and work. Over-cooked viral strategies by ad agencies fail by shutting chance out.
Of course, the most incredible example of chance in the paper was one of the founders of Kogi having Aliiiice as a sister...the chance of this happening must be comparable to the first nuclear fusion. How many times have we heard: Oh, don’t worry, my sister/brother/uncle/friend knows how to do that sort of stuff...and they stuff it up big time. I live in Australia, and I’ll read her blog because I Love her way. She intuitively writes gaps in copy to let people in, its not that appalling shrink-wrapped, company-speak you get on most.
Anyway, in the spirit of exchange and in return for a fine post, I offer up an Australian example: the legendary Café de Wheels, which had a similar beginning to Kogi, 60 years ago. http://www.harryscafedewheels.com.au/History_of_Harrys_Pies.aspx
http://www.nsw.nationaltrust.org.au/harryscafe.html
Love your blog. It's as interesting and informative as National Public Radio. As I get more internet savy, I find things like this site, that intrigue me.
It was Morris Massey who said, "Who we are now is about where we were when." I'm a firm believer in planting ourselves within our cultural history, and then looking back a generation or two.
So, my cultural bias: I was born just after World War II. It wasn't until I was 11 years old that I found out about the Holocaust and the impact of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. At 13, I experienced the Cuban Missile Crisis, and then President Kennedy was assassinated. My first and only experience of partial fan-dom had to do with the attraction I felt in 1964 when the Beatles came to America. But even then, I never joined a fan-club per se. Looking back, I think the music of the Beatles helped me cope with my grief and fear. I wonder if a generation's attraction to the Beatles would have lasted as long as it did, had we had today's technolgy then? Would we have gotten bored and moved on to the next attraction? So, this is my cultural imprinting.
What the Kogi story triggered for me was the thought that having to track a truck for food activates our hunter/gatherer mentality. As a society, we no longer have a tribe to belong to and we seek out ways to make us feel safe and secure, like we belong. Being ostrasized or shunned used to be the biggest fear one could experience. Today, that same fear is activated when our survival is threatened by our interaction with money. When our source of security (access to credit) dries up, we panic. So perhaps standing in line after tracking our food is like sitting around the campfire waiting for the meat to cook. We have a like-minded tribe to belong to.
The article on the Kogi trucks was fascinating and well presented; but standing in line to buy anything ended for me in 1967 when I was about 20 years old and almost got trampled while trying to get in to see a light show with The Doors at the Filmore in San Francisco. There is something clausterphobically dangerous about the unpredictable nature of the crowd mentality.
Therefore, as an aging cultural onlooker at our current point in history, staying on top of the current culture is a lot more challenging that it used to be. When I was in highschool, the most exciting thing to deal with was the latest in-group gossip about who was dating (or going all the way with) whom and the in-crowd consisted of the the cheerleaders & the football/basketball team. Back then, my fellow tudents were not packing weapons and killing students who were bullies or teachers who were disliked.
Everyone of a certain age in America now shares a common experience. We all live in the Aftermath of 9/11. The need to aalve our grief and fear has become ever more demanding and insatiable.
However, there is a side-issue with the latest technology that has recently surfaced. Just because we can walk and chew gum at the same time (do today's students even know who Gerald Ford was), does not mean that pilots should be accessing lap tops while trying to fly an airplane containing scores of passengers.
When I see a bunch of bicycle riders bunching up together in a pod of 30 testoserone pumping males,taking over the road, impeding traffic, I give them a wide margin. All it would take would be for one of them to be texting or twittering a friend, to lose track of situational awareness, and I'd be in the middle of a 10-car, 30-bicycle pile up. I don't think the human mind was designed to multi-task efficiently. Recent tudies have shown that a human being on a cell phone has measurably- diminished peripheral vision. Surprisingly, this diminished vision lasts for 20 minutes after the cell phone converstaion is over. And now we are learning that drivers are texting while driving.
It took two separate auto crashes in my 30's to cure me of consulting (or writing in) my Daytimeer while driving. Fortunately, no one was killed. Texting is now more prevelent and more dangerous to others on the road than drunk driving. State legislators and the TSB may help us all. One solution is to design technology that actually stops working when it senses motion. But what would parents do on a long trip if they couldn't distract their children in the back seat with a cartoon DVD? Simple games of 20 questions or finding license plates from all 50 states no longer will do.
If the first truck began rolling last November, I'm going to guess that customers for Kogi lore vastly outnumber consumers of Kogi cuisine.
The two c-words aren't synonymous. I'd really like to understand the reasoning that conflates a news story about products that people consume with a new process of story architecture that obsoletes the idea of a passive consumer.