Global Fandom: Dima Issa (Lebanon)

Fairouz street art in Beirut

The thing with Fairouz is that you can never really pinpoint the exact moment in time when you become a fan of her work. She seems to have always been there, lurking in the shadows of your morning coffee, or on the radio as you commute through the streets of Beirut or blaring from the old transistor your dad used to listen to during the war that has miraculously found its way unscathed to the kitchen of your house. In whatever way, Fairouz has always been part of your life as an Arab, whether you were conscious of her presence or not. Although my research has primarily focused on Arab diasporic responses to Fairouz and her music, her impact and relevance within Lebanese households and across social media platforms cannot be ignored and must be discussed before delving into her role as an icon among broader Arab audiences. 

Image 2: French president Emmanuel Macaron meeting with Fairouz at her home after the Beirut port explosion. Photograph: Soazig de la Moissonniere / Présidence de la République

 After the Port Explosion in Beirut on 4 August 2020, which killed over 200 people and displaced thousands, French President Emmanuel Macaron paid a visit to Lebanon, already reeling from years of corruption and political turmoil. One of the first places he went to was Fairouz’ home[1] where he bestowed upon the singer France’s highest award, the Legion of Honour. Social media was aflutter with images of the visit, mostly because of the rare sighting of Fairouz, who is known to be elusive and private. Macaron’s visit was no accident, as he relayed to the press the symbolism of Fairouz for France and what she represented to the former colonizer, the so called ‘golden era’ of Lebanon, which was flourishing, economically, socially and culturally. 

 It is important here to turn to John Fiske’s concept of the ‘figure’. According to Fiske (1994), a ‘figure’ is a ‘human simulacrum’ (p. 68). It is the notion that certain people transform into ‘hyperreal’ versions of themselves (Fiske, 1994, p. 69). As a ‘figure’, Fairouz possesses ‘infinitely reproducible signifiers’ (Ibid.), which can be interpreted by her fans and non-fans alike in various forms. Those ‘signifiers’ are based on ‘historical fortuitousness’, but are not necessarily produced solely through the actions of the ‘figure’ (Ibid., p. 72). As Fiske (1994) argues, ‘the body of the individual is comparatively powerless in determining the way he or she is to be figured’ (p. 71). Although it can be argued that Fairouz’ ‘figure’ was one which was strategically created and produced by her writing, management and production team, she has transcended beyond those constructs through the versatile reception of her music and also by the ‘social structures and cultural practices’ of a ‘participatory culture’ (Jenkins, 2019)[2].

Fairouz has never meant only one thing. The best example of this is the ability of a politically polarized country like Lebanon to appropriate her music equally with each party claiming her songs as their own. In addition, and through my research among members of the Arab diaspora, Fairouz as a ‘figure’ signifies a range of things that move beyond her nationality as a Lebanese singer. Linking this with Walter Benjamin’s (1935) concept of ‘aura’ is important here. Benjamin asserts that due to the development of mechanical reproduction technology, works of art have lost their ‘aura’ because they are no longer experienced in the physical and temporal environments that are encapsulated in. However, I argue, through the framework of fandom and with the increase of visibility and availability, the ‘aura’ of Fairouz takes on different forms and is strengthened among her listeners in the diasporic community, away from the environment in which she is commonly associated with. In other words, Fairouz is not only significant in Lebanon, but her ‘aura’ is fortified in spatio-temporal settings that move beyond the borders of Lebanon.

Image of the port after the explosion alongside a statue showcasing a Lebanese immigrant

A poster of Fairouz by artist Achraf Amiri seen on the streets of London

 With the expansion of social networking sites and the increase of content creation among users coupled with the uprisings and revolutions across the Middle East and North Africa, since January 2011, Fairouz, her music and her videos, have gained diverse contextual visibility. At the onset of the uprisings in January 2011, I was a graduate student at the University of Southern California. Geographically distant from Tahrir Square and Sidi Bouzid, I spent a lot of time consuming news sites, contacting friends, and trying to access any information I could find.  It was my Facebook page that mostly caught my attention and specifically the newsfeed, which was decorated with Fairouz images, lyrics and songs. Videos of the protests from around the Arab world were edited, using her songs as the audio track. Scenes from some of her plays were also uploaded, as were verses from her songs.

Regardless of the format, the presence of Fairouz as an aural and visual narrator at such a pivotal moment in the Arab world is significant. Although her songs about patriotism and resistance are decades old, fandom in this context needs to be seen as what Tarik Sabry (2012) calls ‘territorialisation’ and ‘deterritorialisation’. It is the ability of Fairouz to ‘dislocate’ from a certain ‘discourse’ and to occupy another (2012, p. 13). It is a way in which through fandom, Fairouz can shape shift to take on new contexts and exert new meanings. It can be argued that this fluidity Fairouz possesses is catalysed through her ability to create and occupy affective space. For Tomkins (1982), affect is the ‘primary innate motivating mechanism’ in the human body (in Scherer & Ekman, 2009, p. 163). It is the instigator, which triggers a consequent response in the ‘midst of inbetween-ness’ (Gregg & Seigworth, 2010, p. 1; emphasis in original). In parallel, this ‘inbetween-ness’ gives way for the affective-ness of Fairouz, the voice of familiarity, to take shape, since it is dependent on socio-political, cultural and economic dynamics.  

 During the October 17 2019, uprisings in Lebanon and after the August 4 2020, port explosion, it was Fairouz who provided the soundtrack to cater to the helplessness of the situation, while also providing the voice of hope. This is an affective form of fandom. Similar to the way in which superheroes are called on in times of distress, Fairouz is there with her nostalgic melodies fighting for accountability of those in power and describing a more peaceful time. It is as Ahmed (2004) writes an ‘affect of the circulation between objects and signs’ (p. 120). This ‘circulation’ of ‘signs’ allows for the ‘aura’ to ‘dislocate’, creating a ‘figure’ of Fairouz that is malleable and discursive.

 Fairouz has been around even before newer technologies took over soundscapes, her music has been remixed and reworked for years in nightclubs, bars and sound studios across the world. However, newer technologies have given opportunities for her music to be shared and appropriated to a wider generational and globalised audience. Talking with communities that varied nationally, spiritually, circumstantially gender and circumstance, themes of identity and social positioning showcased how Fairouz was able to transgress boundaries of nation, religion and political affiliation to create space that was affective and accessible to her listeners and fans. 

 Although these new technologies allows for Fairouz to centrifugally navigate across a spectrum of audiences, it can be argued that her music also operates at a centripetal level, especially in discussions with diasporic audiences. Drawing on Heidegger’s concepts of ‘Worldliness’, as a ‘totality in which media is constituent’ and an ‘ontological experience of being-in-the-world’ and ‘equipment’, as an order of examining ‘the total system of equipment and practices which gives sense to…Worldliness’, Sabry and Mansour (2019) explore how, through ‘equipment’, such as media technologies and programming, children are able to ‘extend’ the ‘spatial, the temporal and the imagination’ (Sabry & Mansour, 2019, p. 99). Using these notions of ‘Worldliness’ and equipment, it can be argued that Fairouz offers such an extension. As equipment, Fairouz is the soundscape of ‘being-in-the-world’, but also she is able to transport audiences spatially as well as temporally, she is a reversion back to ‘Worldliness’ through an acknowledgement of its existence in its current form, an almost paradoxical inward globalisation that her audiences refer back to through affective fandom.

References

Ahmed, S. (2004a). ‘Affective Economies’. Social Text, 22(2), 117 – 139.

Benjamin, W. (1935). The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. Retrieved on 2 May 2011, from http://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/philosophy/works/ge/benjamin.htm

Fiske, J. (1994). Media Matters: Everyday Culture and Political Change. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota. 

Gregg M. & Seigworth, G. (2010). ‘An Inventory of Shimmers’. In Gregg M. & Seigworth, G. (Eds.), The Affect Theory Reader (pp. 1 – 25). USA: Duke University Press.

Jenkins, H. (2019, September 4). Back to School Special: Fandom, Participatory Culture and Web 2.0. Confessions of an ACA-Fan. Retrieved on 4 September 2021, from http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2019/8/28/back-to-school-special-fandom-participatory-culture-and-web-20-h66e3

Sabry, T. (2012). ‘Arab Cultural Studies: Between ‘Reterritorialisation’ and ‘Deterritorialisation’’. In Sabry, T. (Ed.), Arab Cultural Studies: Mapping the Field (pp. 1 – 31). London, New York: IB Tauris 

Sabry, T. & Mansour, N. (2019). Children and Screen Media In Changing Arab Contexts: An Ethnographic Perspective. London: Palgrave.

Tomkins, S. (1982). ‘Affect Theory’. In Scherer, K. & Ekman, P. (Eds.) (2009), Approaches to Emotion (pp. 163 – 194). USA: Psychology Press.

[1] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/sep/01/emmanuel-macron-visits-lebanese-singer-fairouz-in-bid-to-change-political-soundtrack

[2] http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2019/8/28/back-to-school-special-fandom-participatory-culture-and-web-20-h66e3

Global Fandom: Camilo Diaz Pino (Chile/New Zealand)

My interest in fan studies in particular first came from necessity: I was trying to understand the industrial impact of Japanese cartoon media flows in Latin America’s media production cultures. I had for a while been able to get a good read of these dynamics as they applied to the Anglo-American and European mediascapes by looking at a combination of industrial phenomena and lay media discussions, as well as through textual analyses of Western creative works influenced by Japanese and other East Asian media. When it came to the impact of similar flows of Asian media in Latin American popular cultures however, audience and fan dynamics suddenly became much more central to the discussion. Most of what I wanted to understand was happening away from the “mediated center” (to borrow Nick Couldry’s terminology - Media Rituals: A Critical Approach , London, Routledge, 2003, pp.41) represented by media industries, news coverage and the emergence of anime-influenced Western works. Anime and Japanese media were indeed having a tangible impact in Latin America’s popular spheres, but this influence was largely latent, and was only legible visible through a different perspective. 

While Latin America’s “otaku” Japanophile fan communities were active in similar ways to those embedded in the Anglo-American popular sphere, there was also a different, wider ¾ and to my mind more pervasive ¾ set of transcultural influences at play. I came to see the dominant analytical frameworks of transnational Japanese media fandom, entrenched as they have been in Anglo-American (and European) understandings, as inadequate for understanding the artform’s impact in Latin America. This was for two primary reasons. The first is concerned with the fact that Japanese media fandom in the Anglo-American sphere necessarily occurs within the wider landscape of the latter’s extraordinary insularity and solipsism. The importation of media from other languages and cultures is an exception in the Anglo-American mediascape, rather than the quotidian reality it represents in Latin America ¾ and the majority of the rest of the world for that matter. Anglo-American (and to a lesser extent, European) anime fans have historically been marked as engaging with objects seen as distinctly foreign, exotic, and often esoteric and/or even transgressive, even as they are often infantilized in their association with cartoon cultures. While Latin American Japanophile media fandoms do share some similar histories in this regard, they are also engaging with media that exists in a field in which foreign media imports are ubiquitous, even and especially now from the wider Asian mediascape, with anime currently coexisting in Latin America alongside Korean and Turkish TV dramas, Indian films, and of course K-pop, which for its part may be seen as having a longer popular history here than in the English-speaking world (For some more detailed discussion of this, see Min W, Jin DY, Han B, “Transcultural fandom of the Korean Wave in Latin America: through the lens of cultural intimacy and affinity space”, Media, Culture & Society. 2019, 41:5, 604-619).

The second factor involves the role of standardized language in Latin America’s (Spanish speaking) mediascape itself. Despite incorporating a variety of national and regional dialects, Latin America’s Spanish-speaking countries are pervaded by a standardized form of neutralized Spanish that is ultimately placeless, belonging only to the wider region’s media itself. This is the language of the vast majority of locally produced TV, radio, and film content aimed at a regional audience, as well as that of the region’s multiple capitals of media importation, redistribution, and dubbing ¾ a process itself which virtually all media undergoes when imported to Latin America through official channels. This process thus has two notable consequences, on the one hand making it so that anime feels less distinctly “foreign” to audiences (not just being spoken in Spanish, but a Spanish that feels like it could be from anywhere in Latin America given its neutrality), but also less distinct from media imported from other countries as well. After all, the same person voicing any given anime character may just as easily be heard as the voice of a Western cartoon character, or even live-action TV shows and films dubbed for Spanish audiences.

The dimensions of Asian media fandom in Latin America I was looking at then were not those of the Japanophile, “otaku”, or even necessarily people who would identify themselves as fans strictly speaking. Rather, I found myself interested primarily in the types of latent social affective relationships people have with media that occur in communal quotidian life ¾ common cultural references, familiar narratives, and shared verbal and iconographic lexicons. For me, what was interesting about anime’s fandom in Latin American popular cultures then was how anime characters, narratives and other references were so easily integrated into both popular culture and “ownership” as it were, to the extent that, for example, any given soccer team merch  sold on street corners (non-official of course) may just as well include Pikachu or Goku as Homer Simpson or Spider-Man (Fig. 1). This syncretic “flattening” of anime alongside Western media into popular control may also certainly be seen in Anglo-American popular culture as well, but Latin American audiences did it earlier, and more integrally. My mother’s family, including her parents and adult brothers, would gather together every Sunday during the original Chilean run of Heidi, Girl of the Alps (Arupusu no Shōjo Haiji) in the late 1970s. And this was not exceptional. Heidi and its anime contemporaries were often seen as appointment television, understood both by distributors and the public at large to exist on the same level as any local telenovela. 

Quotidian dynamics such as these often elide the boundaries of fandom as it is often studied ¾ particularly when discussing media such as anime, which is so often discussed as a disruptive influence, whether it be to dominant media flows (to use the term as coined by Daya Thussu – “Mapping global media flow and contra-flow”, in Daya Thussu (ed.) Media on the move: Global flow and contra-Flow, 2007, London, England: Routledge. 11–32), the “centrality” of Western culture and industries, or as a boogeyman exposing Western children to different standards of violence, sex, and/or sexuality. They can be difficult to study, because their impact is often latent, with the depth of their influence only becoming visible when they are called upon to consolidate wider cultural identities and agendas. My last two publications (“Weaponizing collective energy: Dragon Ball Z in the anti-neoliberal Chilean protest movement”, Popular Communication, 2019, 17:3, 202-218 and “K-pop is Rupturing Chilean Society”: Fighting With Globalized Objects in Localized Conflicts, Communication, Culture and Critique, 2021, tcab047) focused precisely on the latent dimension of Asian media’s integration into Latin American (specifically Chilean) popular imaginaries, and how these are evoked. Both dealt with the ways in which Asian media integrated anti-neoliberal activism in the last decade. In the first case study I looked at how a massive 2011 student-led protest demanding an end to the Chile’s educational privatization used a climactic moment from the anime series Dragon Ball Z to narrativize the collective political agenda and add an element of nostalgic play to the event (Fig. 2).

What was most notable to me about this particular performance was how it both expected and received widespread popular recognition of a very specific narrative moment in this show, which may have indeed been popular worldwide, but which was also clearly intimately understood by the wider Chilean popular sphere to the same extent that something like Star Wars would be in the US. To me this evidenced the depth of this texts’ integration into Chile’s popular imaginary, and by extension the extent to which it can now be seen to “belong” to these popular subjects. My second and most recent work on this topic focusses on the ways in which, in the face of continued and even more wide spread anti-neoliberal dissidence, the Chilean government attempted to externalize the issue and blame Chile’s social rupturing on K-pop as a foreign entity, only to face both widespread mockery and the appropriation of K-pop as a symbol of Chile’s vast, syncretic activist movement. This movement for its part has grown rapidly to embody not only anti-neoliberal reforms, but also incorporates long-overdue feminist, transgender, and indigenous rights agendas. By assuming popular ownership of K-pop music and idols alongside such figures as Pikachu, “Pareman” and “Stupid Sexy Spider-Man” (look him up, he’s great), Chile’s activists are again demonstrating not only the extent to which these objects coexist and comingle in the wider imaginary, but also the ways in which their popular significance is something that can (and should) be participatory in nature, just as much a “collective” resource as ones being debated in the political realm (Fig. 3). 

Camilo Díaz Pino is an Assistant Professor of Communication and Media at West Chester University. He holds a BA and MA from the University of Auckland, New Zealand, and a PhD from the University of Wisconsin, Madison. His research interests include peripheral media flows, activist cultures of the Global South, transperipheral cultural hybridity, emergent production cultures, kids media, and cartoon cultures. His current book project focuses on Japanese media’s history to and throughout Latin America, and how these flows have influenced Asian media’s wider cultural presence in the region’s contemporary popular culture.

Global Fandom Jamboree Conversation: Clara Cisneros Hernández (Mexico) and Pablo Escandón Montenegro (Ecuador) (Round Two)

Replay 

Pablo Escandón Montenegro - Quito, Ecuador

The Mexican and Ecuadorian communities show similarities regarding their dynamics, since the calls to action have to do with corporate proposals, that is, to reinforce or grow the community itself and its activities, but not as proposals to follow a thematic or discursive line in which its own members can deepen or develop as individual subjects, since in this way, they generate competition or rivalry between digital spaces and their administrators.

The use they make of the different media and platforms is limited, since they are exclusively centralized on Facebook and do not have web spaces, but their activity address is the fan page. From there the administrator proposes topics and activities, which makes their Followers participate to some extent. The fandom culture is not so free and is completely nucleated by administrators, who work under a traditional media publishing logic, since digital culture is important for the dissemination of content, but not for the creation and cohesion of new audiences.

In this sense, the generational difference in the use of platforms is decisive, since with them the intentions of control and administration of content and knowledge between members can be seen, which does not prevent the exchange of knowledge, but does limit the initiative to build new complementary spaces that converge in the centralized one.

Replay – Round 2

Clara Cisneros Hernández – Mexico City

It can be affirmed that the participation in social networks of followers and fans of both Ecuador and Mexico for select niches, have managed to preserve these virtual spaces in order to share affinities, as well as learning about cultural and media content. The digital public space on ocial networks such as Facebook, summon similar profiles that find convergence from a reinforcement of value systems and recreational motivators.

In the case of Mexico’s La Frikiplaza, applied advertising maintains a huge interest in preserving the flow of users in its networks. Therefore, the segmentation of themes has always had as a target audience various social groups such as gamers, otakus (fans of products derived from Japanese culture), geeks (people who focus their interest on technology and digital devices) , cosplayers (subjects dedicated to the creation and use of costumes for the representation of fictional narrative characters) as well as fans of the Asian music industry and collectors of any plurality of consumer goods from the global content industry.

As described, this legitimized space seeks to reinforce the links and interests of the user, without neglecting effective solutions to make visits to the site, as a necessary variant to stimulate commitment and broaden the spectrum of commercial transactions, which is why the administrators direct their advertising to praise the consumer goods attached to the square.

 Another motivator to keep users encouraged to visit is the offer of free workshops open to the public — for example, sessions to practice the illustration of various visual styles or the teaching of basic levels in the interpretation of languages, as well such as the organization of cultural events with media figures, or the realization of tributes to authors of the popular content industry. In the same way, this space gratifies and grants a space for the relief of social practices, through contests aimed at gamers, cosplayers and choreographic groups, as well as amateur karaoke singers, among others, that manage to encourage free competition, formats cooperation and recreation.

In conclusion, in Mexico it is observed that the practices of followers and fans, specify the social affinities online that, transform the captive socio-cultural exchange in digital activity, are transferred to a landscape of physical social interaction in a very similar way to Ecuadorian photography groups on social networks, which have taken advantage of the Facebook group space to establish learning communities that also manage to break the virtual barrier from coexistence in guided tours of the city of Quito, as previously explained.

In both countries, despite the difference in practices and interest in hobbies, proactive and recreational interaction has been achieved beyond the social environment, giving space to the manifestation of artistic practices in a collective and collaborative way (online and offline) that enable creative expression, knowledge enhancement, and personal transformation.

Global Fandom Jamboree Conversation: Clara Cisneros Hernández (Mexico) and Pablo Escandón Montenegro (Ecuador) (Round One)

Replay 

Pablo Escandón Montenegro - Quito, Ecuador

The fandom culture, who participate in the creation, transformation and dissemination of cultural or media content, in Ecuador is completely linked to the participation of users who contribute to social memory with their knowledge and life stories around the possession of a photograph, knowledge of the scene or the recovery of material that becomes patrimonial, when valued by users.

In social media, mainly on Facebook, there are more than twenty spaces dedicated to the recovery and dissemination of old, historical and everyday photographs and images, which are shared on the pages created for this purpose. On more than one occasion, the same image has recirculated between several pages, because those who make up the community of that digital space, also integrate the others and consider that this contribution should circulate between the different pages in which they are registered and actively participate.

Digital communities, such as Cita con la Memoria, a fan page with restricted access, and managed by a university professor of more than 60 years from the city of Portoviejo, on the country's coast, and the Quito fan page Quito de aldea a ciudad, a free access page, managed by a retired high school teacher of more than 60 years, maintain an authority structure. The administrator is the one who authorizes, guides and promotes user conversations through questions about graphic content.

User participation is relatively frequent. Once the characters or locations of the city are identified, mainly, users stop contributing, and administrators do not generate more comment to revitalize contributions; then they generate a new publication, with the same dynamics.

It is important that the photographs and graphic resources disseminated in these spaces attract the attention of users, who not only share in other groups, but also, in many cases, redefine the graphic document with colorization, if the photograph is black and white, or they tell anecdotes that are related to the official story but delve into the stories lived by the users, or they recover the collective memory, with allusions to stories told by grandparents or relatives.

In this way, the Facebook space becomes a mini learning room about the daily history of a city, its people and the families that are still summoned from the anecdotes in common.

It is important to highlight that Cita con la Memoria, being a restricted group, has a participation of older adult users, on average; while Quito de aldea a ciudad has convened various age groups, since it also promotes guided tours of the city of Quito, with non-tourist circuits, which generates family interest beyond participation in the social environment.

In this way, the communities provide unofficial information about events, people and places that make up the past of Quito and Portoviejo.

Replay – Round 1 

Clara Cisneros Hernández – Mexico City

The communities of followers and fans online for the Mexican Republic, working in a very similar way to how it is assigned in Quito, formalize in social networks a useful and indispensable tool in the dissemination and promotion of virtual spaces for public use that have allowed the linking social and identity affinities in parallel to processes of creation, recreation, socialization and consumption.

Specifically, La Finisterra as a group of researchers dedicated to the creative industries in Mexico City have followed up on the public urban space recognized as the Frikiplaza, a specialized commercial area that, for more than fifteen years, has been positioned as a place of mercantile activations open to the general public in more than 20 states of the country, where young Mexicans meet to share multiple interests and hobbies, enabling the construction of identity values ​​and rituals that consumers adapt to their daily lives.

With the arrival of the pandemic and after the closure and subsequent reopening of public venues, Frikiplaza has given priority to maintaining niches of consumption, identities and cultural processes based on management of various activations in social networks. The physical space expanded to the virtual environment, giving rise to the extension of the identity experience.

Facebook and Instagram are established as the most confluent social networks in the area that, through the use of advertising and marketing models, have allowed the expansion of symbolic systems established as buying and selling models, based on sectors such as video games, animation, comics, music, film and television industries, among others, which provide various commercial supply-demand paths.

In this way, the commercial area is extended to promote a virtual comnunities, where the organizational administrators of the Frikiplaza encourage feedback, providing a continuous communication channel with young consumers between 10 and 35 years old. In their daily activity of expression on these platforms, they help to provide reaction analytics within topics of interest among hobbies and products disclosed by the merchants of their structure. Due to this organizational scheme, the administrators manage to obtain immediate answers to resolve the needs of each of the confluent social groups of the campus. In this way the "collective physical space" breaks limits and is dimensioned as a "virtual public space" that is kept supplied from the advertising application.

Young people prevail as catalyst agents of recreation that carry out the appropriation of symbolic systems in the practice of consumption and socialization,. Decanted through their hobbies, these participants will arrive at a format of convergence of cultures, fostering a space of multicultural convergence. The means of communication, therefore, in the virtual space is triggered by advertising directed at multiple confluent niches, where individual consumers in a dynamic flow re-signify and adopt culturally. In this phenomenon, users and fans in turn can generate a confrontation in consideration of their own culture, where it could be rejected, hybridized or resignified.

As Gilberto Giménez (2000) points out, identity requires a subjective re-elaboration of existing cultural elements. To achieve a social construction, the individual needs to carry out a negotiation with the environment, otherness and its symbolic frameworks, in where it makes a dynamic self-affirmation opposed by external actors and situations, both physical and virtual.

Thus, these enclosures within the most important cities of the Mexican Republic allow the reaffirmation of various social identities. Organizational strategists build specific areas for the construction of activations where local socialization practices are dimensioned that allow the ritualization and manifestation of daily habits of expression, lifestyle and consumption. In this case, the advertising model available in its social networks constantly reaffirms and legitimizes to keep diverse fandoms, recurring users and identity groups paid.

In both Quito and in Mexico, digital spaces aimed at select niches in some way need to be guided by an administration that promotes conversation and that in a certain way facilitates the pathways to address the identity, reaction and cause. of socialization in order to promote feedback, being an essential element to ensure and maintain in the long term, the confluence and the community activity. It should not be overlooked that virtual spaces must maintain constant gratification or motivators that allow the like-minded communities to be maintained.

In turn, it is observed that visual resources for online communities are manifested as symbolic axes necessary to generate responses, as well as guidelines that allow meaning, appropriation and resignification that in parallel derive in the release of intellectual, recreational and learning activities collective that are established as motivators that allow to preserve the recurrent activity of the user.

Global Fandom: Pablo Escandon (Ecuador)

Ecuador, fandom and participation around ancient photography

The study of online communities is important to know the causes and motivations that summon a group of people in a digital space: how is their relationship, how is the way they consume and disseminate information and what are the contents and their dynamics of interactions, but it is also important to know the ages of the members to know how they take on the platform and its relationship with media education. It is also necessary to know how fans feel around a communicative topic, action or product.

Although fans of TV series, movies, music or audiovisual series, as well as video games, are identified and fragmented, the massive number of fans around football and historical photographs on Facebook is not, understood as memory retrieval practices and recirculation of popular knowledge, without the mediation of a curator or gallery owner, much less a museologist or historian, to edit or moderate the discourse.

The dissemination of old photography is a very common practice on the Facebook network and users in Ecuador have made this platform the ideal space to share centralized stories based on the dissemination of archive photographs that administrators of pages such as Quito de aldea a ciudad, Cita con la memoria, Fotos antiguas del fútbol ecuatoriano, Recordando a Quito, Los ladrillos de Quito, among others, are carried out among their followers, with which they propose challenges of identifying spaces, characters, years and practices.

Since 2018, the forms of collaboration, moderation and participation in these digital spaces have been observed, which are managed by people over 60 years old and who have a photographic and newspaper archive, which could well be in a historical archive or as a background of a local museum, but that has decentralized from the formal exhibition and has found in social media the appropriate way to share stories and recreate historical moments, not only with the comments on the platform, but they go further with the proposal of Guided walks through the city, in order to appreciate the urban transformation, as Quito does from village to city, or the radio encounters that Cita con la memoria does, in the city of Portoviejo, to talk about everyday issues of the city, from the photograph of the memory.

The fanatics are in the 40´s and 50´s age. The teenagers or young adults are not the objective public of these digital spaces, because the physical exhibitions can convocate families and schoolars with teachers in urban places where the photographies are displayed.

Likewise, football history spaces resort to the exhibition of photographs taken from printed media and their own files to dialogue with fans about players, stadiums, results of championships and clothing.

This work is about how Facebook pages have become relatively cybermuseums, central containers for various digital and non-digital activities, which enhance the physical visit to a heritage space, mainly the urban one, to verify its transformation. One of the important characteristics of the cybermuseum is to create community and generate forms of appropriation of heritage, from an aesthetic characteristic of the community where it is settled, and that from the evocation generates its own poetics in its speeches.

The generation gap is important when creating content and positioning them on platforms, since the consumption and forms of relationship are different because the administrator marks his identity and has created a particular sociability with the members, which results in share similar aesthetic processes and consumptions, which do not require younger generations or age groups.

The administrator of a page on Facebook sets the aesthetics and rhythms of participation, to which users are assimilated. Therefore, the reputation of the administrators or guides is shaped by the input, moderation and knowledge that they demonstrate in the community. The members contribute to the construction of the story proposed by the administrator, granting it the authority to disseminate and generate content based on the established guidelines, which makes the community have a hierarchical relationship with the administrators of the spaces.

The configured communities look for authority figures who channel their interests, who deliver other types of content that they cannot find in official spaces, for this reason they look for factual constructions that are closer to the aesthetic-poetic that appeals to their subjectivity, that removes their memories and do not stay in nostalgia.

It is important to note that many of the members of each community integrate several spaces, since they find in them the complementarity of information and formats, supported by a methodological similarity in the activities of routes and walks. Therefore, it is thanks to this diversification of members in relation to belonging to networks and communities, that a polarized network structure is presented, which has similar intersections or encounters due to the presence of users in each community.

The online users find that Facebook is the best "medium" for exchange and dissemination, as well as meeting, but they requires more audiovisual content that motivates their consumption, that is interactive and generates interaction between members of the communities, actions that are important to maintain the curiosity and participatory spirit of those who are interested in these topics, with which the proposal hypermedia is aimed at motivating users to establish new walking routes within the city, under a random and / or thematic scheme outside the official tourist conventions.

The fandom culture as we traditionally know it around DC comic productions, Marvel or Disney audiovisual productions have their followers, but they are expressed in the purchase and marketing products, not in permanent or organized communities. The Comic Con is a meeting that takes place in the portuary city of Guayaquil, as an opportunity to generate business among the stores that sell products like merchandising.

Quito de aldea a ciudad: https://www.facebook.com/quito.aldeaaciudad

sell products like merchandising.

Quito de aldea a ciudad: https://www.facebook.com/quito.aldeaaciudad

Ecuador: fotos antiguas colorizadas.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/316318006036425/?hoisted_section_header_type=recently_seen&multi_permalinks=616290999372456

Fotografías antiguas del fútbol ecuatoriano

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1063318734047308

Pablo Escandón Montenegro

Professor at Simón Bolívar Andean University of Ecuador, academic coordinator of posgraduate program in Digital Communication, narrative transmedia researcher and writer of hipermedia.

pablo.escandon@uasb.edu.ec

Global Fandom Jamboree: Clara Cisneros Hernandez (Mexico)

In Mexico City, within the Center for Studies in Communication Sciences of the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (National Autonomous University of Mexico a.k.a. UNAM), has been created a space for young researchers for academic discussion and the study of international creative industries, under the name “La Finisterra”, originated on May 14th, 2015. The research focuses are transmediation processes, the study of videogames focused on fandom from e-sports to serious games, geek culture, anime, manga, comics and Lucha Libre mexicana (Mexican wrestling).

The organization was founded by José Ángel Garfias Frías, David Cuenca Orozco, members of the National System of Researchers, and Roberto Carlos Rivera Mata, specialist in Serious games. Also the young academics members are: Clara Cisneros, specialist in anime and transmediation processes; Yisel Caballero, specialist in genre and video games; Emmanuel Galicia, specialist in advergames, Jetzaí Velazco, specialist in audiovisual products; Adolfo Gracia, specialist in communities of gamers; and Patricia Celis Banegas, specialist in Lucha Libre;  among other collaborators; all with postgraduate studies and professors from UNAM.

So far, we have finalized five collective research books with double ruling from other formal academic institutions, being the case of the texts: “Creative industries, Imaginaries, values ​​and ideology in animation and videogames”, (UNAM, 2021); “Creative industries and transmediation processes. Streaming videogames and audiovisual culture”, (UNAM, 2020); "Contributions for the construction of videogame theories volume 1 and 2" (UNAM 2018 - 2019); "Analysis of audiovisual languages ​​in the digital age" (UNAM, 2018). And there are two more books to be published: "Electronic sports. Theoretical approaches to its origin and evolution ”, and “Manual of scripts for video games with a focus on communication ”.

Similarly, we have published in other collective texts such as: "Leisure and entertainment in the digital context", Gedisa, 2021; under the coordination of Roberto Alejandro López Novelo; “Critical digital literacies. From tools to communication management ”. UAM - Editorial Juan Pablos, 2019; among other publications and journals.

Our mission is to position the study of the creative industries and the reception of fandom on the agenda of Mexican academic research, in order to develop research from a multidisciplinary perspective and contribute to the development of national production with applied social sciences.

A broad United Nations definition of Creative Industries specifies that (Unctad, 2008) “they are cycles of creation, production and distribution of goods and services that use creativity and intellectual capital as primary inputs”. In addition, they constitute a set of knowledge-based activities, focused on, but not limited to, culture and the arts, generating income from trade and intellectual property rights. They also include tangible products and intangible intellectual or artistic services with creative content, economic value and market objectives; they are a cross between artisan, service and industrial sectors.

Our research follows fandoms from the creative industry, since we are the Latin American country with the most specialized urban spaces dedicated to commerce and recreational activities in relation to cultural products such as videogames, comics, music industry, television series, animation and anime; among other sectors of international scope. Specifically, we monitor urban spaces that promote geek culture within Mexico City, such is the case of shopping and socializing places such as Frikiplaza, Fan Freak Center, Pikashop and Comic Rock Show, whose particularity is to provide a safe and comfortable environment for the constitution of communities according to hobbies, abilities or interests of various kinds, where individuals have direct exposure to a wide diversity of cultures and signatures to develop a sense of belonging. We also monitor online and offline communities, based on institutional research projects and thesis.

Conference at "La frikiplaza", a specialized shopping place in Mexico City.

Another line of studies predisposes the monitoring of transmediation processes, recognized as the construction of narrative experiences deployed through various media or platforms (Jenkins, 2003). The applied reception process focuses on video games, animation and lucha libre, which are the industries that we have detected, interweave expandable meaning webs within different information systems that surround a nucleus of meaning. Transmediation processes are essential for the study of creative industries since they assemble and design discursive and technical operational problems in order to open their meaning systems in a hypermedia environment, where the axis of action is Storytelling.

 The transmediation processes allow us to define how the fan, the user, the player, reader and perceiver, access not only other platforms to complete the story, but also involve themselves in order to develop with their actions and decisions, the discursive core and meaning that allows immersion, interactivity and a technocultural engagement, which remains based on motivators and gratification formats.

Mexico needs to be up-to-date in video game research, primarily due to its status as the main consumer of such technologies in the Latin American region. The territory also remains the tenth largest market in the world in the consumption of videogames, being the majority in the region with estimated revenues of approximately 2.3 billion dollars for 2021 (Statista, 2021). The Mexican territory is a representative sample, because more and more independent videogame and digital animation productions are being created within our country. Mexico is already beginning to produce its own videogames.

Although we study various styles of animation, we mainly monitor anime and its direct relationship with gamified formats in their transmediation processes, since Mexico remains one of the ten countries with the highest global consumption by the industry (Google Trends, 2020).

We integrate Lucha Libre mexicana into our research agenda, since it is a creative industry of indigenous international scope. Likewise, in 2018, Lucha Libre was declared a cultural heritage of Mexico City, established as a sports activity that encompasses intellectual creation from the continuous generation of new shows, characters, masks, rivalries and fighting skills. The sector involves a formal and informal economic development of great importance for the country, Lucha Libre in Mexico is an activity that is between sport and ritual, where there is a mixture of all these genres, but there are a number of theatrical elements basic, such as the mask, the costumes and the characters who stage dramas (Möbius, 2007).

Conference at National Autonomous University of Mexico a.k.a. UNAM.

Our academic research is committed to the investigation of different media productions, where even the participation of users becomes decisive from its reception, appropriation of meanings, communicative practices and user-generated content. In this way, some companies see the fan as a creator and promoter of cultural products, a cultivator of a true transmedia culture, where the important thing is to generate value from the fact of spreading on the network of users or consumers, since a certain content "If it doesn't spread, it's dead" (Jenkins, 2015: 25).

In summary We study the phenomenon of the creative industries meticulously through three levels:

1. Review of who produces the content, delimiting the intertwined distribution and consumption formats.

2. Analysis of the changes in the narrative structure within hypermediation and transmediation processes.

3. Monitoring of consumers at their reception, studying the forms of appropriation, participation and derivative communication practices.

The three levels are applied to the mexican context from a multidisciplinary approach, taking into account theories and methodologies that range from political economy, to investigate the power relations between media, to the reception and consumption processes, where we investigate the way in which international creative industries are appropriated by consumers, and how they continue to redefine their value.

Our approach defends the cultural perspective, where creative industries are understood as symbolic constructions, which are consumed by users who are subject to their structure, within a media environment where symbolic products are materialized and where symbolic goods are culturalized in a common space (Lash and Lury, 2007).

The analysis of these industries are in relation to the context of production, where the central axis takes into analysis the themes and exchanges between fans. The research we carry out is predominantly from a participatory approach, supported by a process of interpretation with a qualitative and hermeneutical methodological basis in the explicit lines of research.

The analysis of these industries places emphasis on the context of production, where the central axis takes into account the themes and exchanges between fans. The research we carry out is predominantly from a participatory approach, supported by a process of interpretation with a qualitative and hermeneutical methodological basis in the explicit lines of research.

References

Jenkins,  Henry (2006). Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture. New York University Press. 

Jenkins, H.; Ford, S. & Joshua Green (2013) Spreadable Media. New York University Press. 

Lash, S., & C. Lury (2007). Global Culture Industry. The Mediation of Things. Polity. Cambridge. 

López Novelo, R.A. (coordinador) 2021. Ocio y entretenimiento en el contexto digital. Aproximaciones desde la academia. México,  Gedisa.

Möbius, J. (2007). Y detrás de la máscara...el pueblo: Lucha libre, un espectáculo popular mexicano entre la tradición y la modernidad. unam. México.

United Nations (2008). Creative Economy Report, 2008. UNCTAD.

Statista. (2021). Statista.com. Link: https://es.statista.com/grafico/25685/los-principales-mercados-de-los-videojuegos/

Clara Cisneros Hernández – Mexico City

PhD student  in Communication from the Graduate Program in Political and Social Sciences from the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Subject professor at the Faculty of Political and Social Science. Subjets of investigation: Videogames, Transmedia, fandom, creative industries, anime and manga.

Email: clara.cisneros@politicas.unam.mx

La Finisterra is a community of young researchers within the Center for Studies in Communication Sciences of the Campus for the Political and Social Sciences from the National Autonomous University of Mexico, originated since 2015 for academic discussion, the creation of their own theories and methodologies for the study of the mexican fandom, videogames, animation, comic and wrestling industries. So far, we have finalized five collective research books with double ruling from other formal academic institutions, being the case of the texts: “Creative industries, Imaginaries, values and ideology in animation and videogames”, (UNAM, 2021); “Creative industries and transmediation processes. Streaming videogames and audiovisual culture”, (UNAM, 2020); "Contributions for the construction of videogame theories volume 1 and 2" (UNAM 2018 - 2019); "Analysis of audiovisual languages in the digital age" (UNAM, 2018).

Clara Cisneros Hernández – México City: PhD student in Communication from the Graduate Program in Political and Social Sciences from the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Subject professor at the Faculty of Political and Social Science. Subjets of investigation: Videogames, Transmedia, fandom, creative industries, anime and manga.

Global Fandom Jamboree Conversation Series: Hadas Gur-Ze’ev (Israel) and Miranda Ruth Larsen (Japan) (Part Two)

Fans write messages to K-pop artists performing at KCON LA 2017. (Author's photo, 2017)

Miranda Ruth Larsen: Many thanks for your participation as well, Hadas. I absolutely agree with your point that physical distance is as vital as symbolic distance, and that the realities of fandom are better illustrated with a rich understanding of particular contexts.

As to your question about K-pop fans in Tokyo versus Los Angeles – my response would be that while someone in each locale may be a fan of the same idol group, it is imperative to recognize differences in access, proximity, and so forth. Everything should, in an ideal mode of both academic and fannish engagement, be viewed as interconnected but localized. In other words, only certain statements should fit the bill of “global K-pop fandom,” and even the monikers “Japanese K-pop fans” or “Anglophone K-pop fans” must be broken down further for an accurate representation of how these fans are fans. In doing so, we can do as you suggested – have open conversations about the plasticity of boundaries and the fact those boundaries are often more like a disorganized Russian nesting doll.

I think your study of The Geekery offers an excellent point of analysis, beginning with its platform structure via Facebook. I’m interested in the types of posts shared there, particularly if you’ve noticed patterns as to certain fans taking on defined roles. In many bounded communities, established BNFs might rise to prominence because they always share the latest news, post the most photos, have the most incendiary discussions, and so on. Do you see this on The Geekery? Are Israeli comic fans claiming niche brands for themselves within this community, and do those niches point to the struggles of marginalized members?

I believe that your experiences with The Geekery can also speak well to COVID-19, given that online connection has become a central point of engagement for many fans during the pandemic. In my research, co-presence is not necessarily physical presence; in fact, co-presence is difficult to accurately measure because it forays into the realm of affect. What’s important is the opportunity for that affect. For most fans – but not all – this points to the physical, but there are other means to connect, depending on the context.

Your final question is a tricky one, as it widens out our discussion to transcultural fandom as a whole! Of course the factors of physical location, country of origin, and culture impact ability to take part in global fandom. So do practical factors like internet speed, disposable income, and proximity to a well-stocked library. Wholly acknowledging these factors is a vital framework that must be integrated with every fan studies engagement. Without them, we run the risk of making romanticized generalizations and commit a disservice towards other academics, fans, and students.

ICon 2017

Hadas Gur-Ze’ev: I think we both agree and recognize the plasticity of boundaries that constitute and define fan identity (or opportunities to participate in fandom). With this in mind, we can also ask about the particular power-struggles that shape the boundaries and the biases they hold—ones that stem from practical factors like distance or socio-economic status, but also symbolic struggles over resources and authority between different fans. This will require to look not only at broader interconnections within global fandom, but also how these struggles respond to changing contexts and trends in global popular culture (e.g. representations of gender, race, minority groups and inequality in general). 

Responding to your questions, the platform of Facebook is indeed an interesting space for negotiations around fan identity construction—where participants’ posts often serve, consciously or unconsciously, to define self /in-group identity as a “true” fans. While some users are more active than others (as you would expect on digital platforms), I wouldn’t say it is certain (individual) fans taking on defined roles—but rather a certain type of fans that showcase their prominence by the use and control of the “correct” insider-knowledge. These, as I see it, are again questions of boundaries—and a conflict including specifically gendered aspects (that are both local and global in nature). While some attempt to protect rather limited boundaries and reinforce (masculine) canon, other voices in the group attempt to incorporate new perspectives and audiences, presenting female/feminist voices as equally “authentic”. 

In my study of The Geekery I focused on the struggles of marginalized members based on gender, which is especially crucial in the case of the identity-label “geek” (for its previously perceived masculine hegemony). In this group, claiming ownership/knowledge of “correct” (canonic) niche brands translates into “fan-credit” and helps ensure the exclusivity of those already in power position. Yet, in the current cultural moment we may be witnessing a battle for these positions of power, and a sort of “opening-up” of fandom for more diverse audiences.

Asking ourselves about the factors (and biases) that impact the ability to take part in a global fandom, should we be able to recognize common dominant struggles for representation or participation? And if we do see some former-marginalized members reclaiming a position of power, who are the others at the (new) margins whose voices we might be missing, both at the local and global levels?

Fans watch requested videos in a K-pop cafe in Shin-Ōkubo, Tokyo. (Author's photo, 2016)

Miranda Ruth Larsen: I believe this has been a fruitful exchange; as I’ve expressed to Hadas, I’m quite sure we could continue indefinitely given the fascinating touchpoints between our two perspectives and areas of fan research.

My initial entry for this project was, admittedly, more of a manifesto concerning fandom and fan studies as a field. Throughout our exchanges, Hadas and I have drawn on our research in geographically and linguistically demarcated fan spaces. In doing so, we have both pointed to the vital importance of context and recognized that even those contexts carry limitations; whether it be the platform boundaries of Facebook or the winding streets of Shin-Ōkubo, these settings both inspire networks and bring access into question.

Moving forward, I hope that more fan studies work recognizes the affectively messy, experiential, nuanced, and unequal operations of fans and fandoms. We cannot ignore that fandoms take place under capitalism, that affect drives both collaboration and division, that ‘fans’ as a label often glosses over crucial markers such as race, gender, sexuality, socioeconomic status, age, and so on. Additionally, the digital platforms and physical spaces where fandoms happen are subject to numerous influences.

The observations Hadas and I have raised in our discussion are proof that fandom contexts provide challenges even to a well-informed researcher. The next step – getting our work ‘out there’ – also offers distinct challenges. I would like to conclude by stating that recognizing ourselves in our research remains a divisive topic in fan studies. Academic climates, like fandoms, are also nuanced (nuanced, here, is an attempt at diplomacy). In some circles, identifying oneself or one’s work as fan studies is actively discouraged. I hope that the aca-fan position becomes more accessible and acceptable given the current nature of the world falling apart. As COVID-19 continues to deepen concepts like access, borders, and cultural flows, diverse and outspoken aca-fans are needed to make sense of how and why people connect with media and each other.

Hadas Gur-Ze’ev: This has been a great conversation! We could definitely continue our discussion infinitely, seeing that context and limitations are always relevant and constantly changing. In a way, I think both our perspectives posed questions about the centers and peripheries in fandom; perhaps our exchange can shed light on the common/specific biases for different fan spaces, each with its own center and periphery.

I find these questions particularly interesting at this cultural moment, where struggles of access in fandom can be seen through the lenses of globalization, capitalism, a global pandemic, or worldwide influential movements for more equal opportunities (#MeToo/BLM?). In this broader context, we might even consider our conversations as part of a whole set of new perspectives that are claiming more dominance at the center/mainstream of fandom (and possibly fan studies?)—ethnicities, genders, sexualities, disabilities, minority groups, and diverse identities.

I thank you again for the opportunity to think more about our shared areas of research, and can’t wait to see where else this is going in the future (for fans, aca-fans, and global culture as a whole)!

Global Fandom Conversation Series: Hadas Gur-Ze’ev (Israel) and Miranda Ruth Larsen (Japan) (Part One)

Hebrew section in Israeli comic shop

Miranda Ruth Larsen: As I read Hadas’ introductory statement, I found myself attempting to reconcile the two spaces she so keenly addresses: the physicality of conventions and the digital reach of online fandom communities. Though geographically separated, the resonance between her study of Israeli comics fandom and my own work addressing K-pop in Japan is clear.

Hadas’ consideration of Israel as a fandom context is vital here, one of the place-centric engagements that contributes to the richness of transcultural fan studies. We can read Hadas’ introductory statement as an echo of numerous threads in fandom and fan studies, namely: 1) the ‘purity’ of texts 2) fans versus non-fans 3) localization and globalization 4) gendered fandom practices. The issues themselves are not new, but every permutation of them matters; how we discuss them now will shape future perceptions of media consumption and enjoyment.

I’m curious if The Geekery functions as a fandom police, given the centralized structure of consumption: what of the fans who cannot easily access Facebook, the ones left out of the loop? Are fans on this platform utilizing their real names and identifiable images of themselves (in and out of cosplay), or is a degree of obfuscation employed? Additionally, given Hadas’ observation that fan practices at ICon are gendered, I can’t help but wonder if they’re also generational – are the fans of untranslated, “raw” texts younger, and do they harass older fans for their engrained consumptive habits?

:A rookie K-pop idol group promotes their concert by distributing fliers outside Skinholic, a Korean cosmetics shop. (Author's photo, 2016)

As I’ve written elsewhere, the politics of naming a fan/otaku/fujoshi/pen in Japanese is a paramount linguistic decision (Larsen 2018, 2020). Going beyond K-pop, the employment of one of these labels to describe oneself or others is contextual and often highly gendered. (Fujoshi in Ikebukuro does not land the same way as it does in Akihabara; to use the Korean-derived suffix pen outside of known Korean Wave enthusiasts can result in blank stares.) These terms are, critically, not universally interchangeable or acceptable. There are social consequences for using these terms, even when definitions are agreed upon by friendly parties.

This ties into Hadas’ observation that ‘geek’ offers a particular label for comics fans in Israel, a conscious demarcation to those that don’t “get” fandom and members of other fandoms as well. Yet geek is also a plastic term, as Benjamin Woo explores in Getting A Life: The Social Worlds of Geek Culture. Geeks and other labels “are all social types, or models that are abstracted from particulars” (46). The fans Hadas discusses apparently want geek to occupy an agreed-upon definition, a consensus social model under scrutiny, but this seems like a potent recipe for conflict. Is the “universality” celebrated in centralized Israeli comics fandom a rhetorical strategy to minimize the numerous differences of Israeli fans, like the silencing of marginalized fans by mainstream fans elsewhere?

Works Cited

Larsen, Miranda Ruth. “‘But I’m a Foreigner Too.’ — Otherness, Racial Oversimplification, and Historical Amnesia in Japan’s K-pop Scene.” Fandom: Now in Color: A Collection of Voices. Edited by Rukmini Pande. University of Iowa Press. 2020. 

“Fandom and Otaku.” A Companion to Media Fandom and Fan Studies. Edited by Paul Booth. Wiley. 2018.

Woo, Benjamin. Getting A Life: The Social Worlds of Geek Culture. McGill Queen’s Press. 2018.

Hadas Gur-Ze’ev: Thanks for starting this conversation, Miranda! I can also see the resonance between fandom in Israel (although it still mostly describes sci-fi/fantasy geeks) and your work on K-pop in Japan, or the broader relationship between fans and idols in different locales. 

While Israel (or Koreatown, Japan or Los Angeles) is certainly a vital fandom context, it is still only one in an array of different contexts (among gender, power, or global fan traditions and practices). I agree with your statement that scholarship should better represent the realities of fandom, taking into account critical localized aspects and inequities in access to media and experiences. It seems to me that we should also consider such inequities as intersecting with others—not just a physical distance from an experience, but also symbolic distance—such as a language or cultural gap, access to resources, or, like the case of my study, a gender bias. 

And so, if K-pop fans are not offered the same proximities to their idols in Tokyo as they do in Los Angeles, could they be equally considered part of the same fandom? Do they experience their fan identity differently, and maybe try to make up for these gaps? If we see access as influenced by power struggles (whether the local/global, direct/remote, masculine/feminine, old/new), we can ask ourselves who can—and cannot—be an acceptable “fan”? And similarly, who can—and cannot—be an acceptable aca-fan? As fans and as academics, we can try to better understand these dynamic boundaries and what constitutes them in each community.

The Geekery is indeed the mainstream digital platform for fandom in Israel, and the question of border-policing in the form of access to the group (or to Facebook) is certainly important. Although there is no formal policing (the group is public, the admins present it as inclusive as possible, and participants usually feel safe to use their names and share pictures), the group must leave a lot of fans “out of the loop”. Apart from an evident gendered bias of access (with reported evidence of toxic masculinities), The Geekery also lacks representation of specific sub-groups and minorities in Israeli society (for example, from different ethnic or religious groups). This does not mean there aren’t geeks or fans elsewhere—but that many unique experiences are not widely visible on mainstream fandom circles. We can therefore ask not only how to make these voices heard, but also how to integrate sometimes conflicting values and conceptions of fandom.

I’m not certain that a “universality” celebrated in centralized Israeli comics fandom is a rhetorical strategy to exclude others, but it might provide  the structure, or boundary, in which different identities battle each other. “Geek” or “fan” (and likely, other interchangeable terms in different languages) are certainly contextual, gendered, and dynamic labels—and thus policing these identities, meanings, and borders of definitions could be seen as exclusionary rhetorical strategies. An interesting question is who do these boundaries exclude, and what valued resources are prevented from marginalized members.

Reading your introductory statement, I was particularly interested in the role of physicality in the relationship between fans, idols, and fandom. This question might even be more relevant in the context of COVID-19 and the use of digital substitutes to physical experiences (even within the same local and cultural settings). I’m curious if the co-presence specific to certain locale is necessarily a physical presence? Could there also be other options to connect with fans and idols? And to what extent do the physical location, country of origin or culture determine the ability to take part in global fandom?

Global Fandom Jamboree: Miranda Ruth Larsen (Japan)

A view of the KCON LA convention floor from the Special Guest lounge (author’s photo, 2018)

In the mid‐2000s, I walked into a music‐based pop culture shop in a Central New York mall and picked up a t‐shirt emblazoned with the words “anime freak” in English and the kanji for “otaku” in Japanese. At the time, Japanese content such as anime and manga were circulating widely in the United States and globally, aided by Web 2.0 and the time and effort of industry and dedicated fans alike. (Larsen 2018, 277) This personal anecdote opens my article “Fandom and Otaku” to marry my argument (fan, like otaku, is a contextually determinant term and identity) with my aca-fan position (an identity position that complicates and enriches fan experiences). 

 Consider the following situation as an addendum: in the summer of 2015, I returned to Central New York to visit family before moving to Tokyo for my PhD. One of my cousins was especially eager for me to spend time with her daughter, someone also “into” all the “Japan stuff.” Despite our 13-year age gap, this ‘little’ cousin of mine and I shared interests in numerous anime, video games, and Japanese musicians. She was particularly delighted I knew about Hatsune Miku, as many of her friends didn’t understand the concept of the virtual singer. We then had this exchange:

Me: Well, if you see something Miku that you want to get, I can always send it to you

from Tokyo.

Little cousin: Oh, that’s okay. I can get everything on Amazon.

The sting of rejected good intentions aside, this moment encapsulates a generational difference of engagement with Japanese popular culture and fandom itself. I cite it now in conjunction with my statement in “Fandom and Otaku” as an apt illustration of the many strains found in fandom and fan studies. Transcultural fandom is at the root of global fan practices today, facilitated by international marketing and connections via Web 2.0. At the same time, this focus on the globalization of certain texts and practices often elides critical localized realities. 

 My dissertation, “‘A World Just For You’: Affect, Bodies, and Place in Shin-Ōkubo,” explores this via K-pop. While widely understood as a global phenomenon, the experience of K-pop fandom and idoldom in Tokyo’s Koreatown is vastly different from other locations. Besides a complex historical backdrop and cultures of gendered consumption writ large, categories of ‘fan’ and ‘idol’ are often spatially bound performances. Affective experiences offered as integral components of nascent idol life, such as sharing photos, recording “Five Minute Dates,” and tackling language barriers facilitate co-present co-creation specific to certain locales. Koreatown’sIkemen-dori(“Hot Guy Road”), for example, has idols recruit new fans via hand-delivered flyers in an environment of ethnic tourism clouded by an unwillingness to remember Japanese atrocities against Korean nationals both historical and present (Ahn and Yoon 2020, 179). Critically, this localized model influences idols who go on to operate elsewhere, including participation in production of other idols in For

Rookie K-pop group CIRCUS CRAZY distributes flyers on the streets of Shin-Ōkubo, Tokyo’s Koreatown (author’s photo, 2016).

 The recognition of the global in fan studies often fades to discussions of adaptation, distribution, and objects. My dissertation highlights how numerous fan experiences can’t be purchased via Amazon. Elsewhere, I’ve written about affective hoarding, a phenomenon where fans actively seek to take an affective experience away from another fan (Larsen 2018, On/Offscreen). While adaptation, distribution, and object fandom matter, fan studies has much work to do recognizing the polymorphous. Like the earlier abandonment of purely affirmational, resistance-driven fandom, we must now accept that the digital and global turn facilitates anti-fandom and toxic stan culture on a borderless and terrifying scale.

 I’m interested, then, in how scholarship can better represent the realities of fandom, addressing the non-utopian (racism, sexism, classism, ageism, nationalism, xenophobia) and the complex (transcultural, linguistic, affective, commoditized). Disparities in academia at large and academic publishing guarantee widely circulated texts are often vetted via academia, not fandom. Critical views of BIPOC scholars – and other underrepresented populations – are curated for acceptability by a white majority that gets to represent the field in classrooms and revenue. It’s unsurprising, therefore, that voices offering the hardest truths are often dismissed – and harassed -- if they do not fit the narrative (Stitch 2021).

 Similarly, the aca-fan orientation, outside of many welcoming circles, is criticized as an unethical position denoting excessive attachment. As Lori Hitchcock-Morimoto observes, “we are wont to think of the emotional side of fandom as both incalculable (and thus difficult to account for) and insufficiently critical as a scholarly lens, particularly where positive emotions are concerned” (2017). In my own experience while based in Tokyo, I frequently encountered pointed stares whenever I framed my work as aca-fandom or reported fans and idols as having diverse experiences. Again, this is contextual; white cis male academics engaging with ‘weird Japan’ aren’t undercut in the same manner. There is a marked gender bias as to who is an acceptable aca-fan, among many other factors. This is not discussed enough.

 Returning to my opening anecdotes, I want to stress the rural setting of these experiences as well. Media and experiences may be theoretically widely available, but they are not widely accessible. As I often explain when questioned about my research, K-pop idols do not offer the same proximities – real and imagined – to fans in Tokyo as they do in Los Angeles. And as I told my little cousin back in 2015, utilizing a fannish reference, one does not simply purchase everything on Amazon.

 I believe fan studies, to capture the realities of fandom, must recognize the numerous gaps between fans far beyond the narrative of a global fandom rallying behind a boyband, film, or athlete. We must update – and create new -- models that address the diversity and inequities of fan experiences and then discuss these models beyond the halls of academia. Most importantly, we must reckon with context upsetting generalized assertions.

 Works Cited

Ahn, Ji-Hyun and E Kyung Yoon. 2020. “Between Love and Hate: The New Korean Wave, Japanese Female Fans, and Anti-Korean Sentiment in Japan.” Journal of Contemporary Eastern Asia Vol. 19., No. 2: 179-196.

Hitchcock-Morimoto, Lori. 2017. “’First Principles’: Hannibal, Affective Economy, and Oppositionality in Fan Studies.” Fan Studies Network Conference, Huddersfield UK.

Larsen, Miranda Ruth. 2018. “Affective Hoarding.” On/Offscreen.

--- 2018. “Fandom and Otaku.” A Companion to Media Fandom and Fan Studies. Paul

Booth, ed. Wiley-Blackwell.

Stitch. 2021. “Over a Year After the OTW/AO3’s Statement of Solidarity: Where Are We With That Anti-Racism?” Stitch’s Media Mix.

Miranda Ruth Larsen is a PhD Candidate at the University of Tokyo in ITASIA (Information, Technology, and Society in Asia). She previously earned an M.A. in Cinema & Media Studies (2015) from UCLA and a B.A. in English & Textual Studies (2011) from Syracuse University. Miranda’s work focuses on fandom, gender, and transcultural media. She is the author of “‘But I’m a Foreigner Too.’ – Otherness, Racial Oversimplification, and Historical Amnesia in Japan’s K-pop Scene” inFandom, Now in Color: A Collection of Voices(2020), “‘Don’t Adjust Your Life to Mine.’ –Moon Child, Homoeroticism, and the Vampire as Multifaceted Other” inThe Global Vampire in Popular Culture(2020), “Fanservice” in the open-access publicationKeywords: Japanese Media and Popular Culture(2020), among others. She has discussed K-pop fandom on podcasts such as Aca-Media, Reset, and Hello Hallyu and was a three-year KCON LA Special Guest. She can be found on Twitter as @AcaOtaku

Global Fandom Jamboree: Hadas Gur-Ze’ev (Israel)

An ultra-orthodox couple and an ICon visitor in costume on public transportation (private collection).

It was Jewish new year more than a decade ago when I was first exposed to the concept of fandom in Israel. As every year, for three days the streets of Tel-Aviv were packed with teenagers dressed as Spiderman, Deadpool, or other handmade cosplay outfits, waving with big gestures and wishing each other (and the shocked onlookers) “Happy Icon-day!”. ICon (short for ‘Israeli Convention') is not a national or religious holiday (though depending on whom you ask), but rather the annual Israeli science fiction and fantasy fan convention—some would say, the Israeli equivalent of Comic-Con. Despite its growing popularity in recent years, the event is completely volunteer-based, and still takes place in a high-school backyard. 

Unlike other fan conventions worldwide, ICon lacks the impressive number of celebrity guests, panels, photo-ops and signatures. I would not go as far as assuming that this has something to do with the politicization of the state of Israel. The genres of comics and sci-fi/fantasy in Israel are still relatively niche, and fly under-the-radar when it comes to the potential battlegrounds for political conflicts. Another explanation might be related to the fact that Israel is still a small market (with a population of about 9 million citizens), geographically remote from the US and central Europe (although probably less-so culturally). On top of this, the resources at hand of the organizations involved—run by the fans themselves—seem to be much more limited.

My forthcoming journal article (co-authored with Prof. Neta Kligler-Vilenchik), titled “No Geek Girls: Boundary-work and Gendered Identity in the Israeli Geek Community,” focused on the construction and negotiation of identity for comics and sci-fi/fantasy fans in Israel through their main digital platform, the Facebook group ‘The Geekery.’ Asking how gender plays into the negotiations over who can—and cannot—be a geek, this project also suggested the importance of the identification as geeks rather than fans, but still as part of a global subculture.

Don’t say ‘comics fans,’ say ‘geeks’: Linguistic and cultural translations

ICon is one of the best examples of a community where participants express feelings of closeness and intimacy—described through terms like “family” and “home”—values that are traditionally dominant in Israeli culture. But the Israeli fan identity is one that is far less Israeli than it is global. Fan objects and resources are pretty much identical to global popular culture, without any formal local additions to the collective repertoire (dominated by Marvel and DC comics). Most fans prefer to read or watch original versions, without subtitles (dubbing is completely unacceptable)—and so comic books, movies and series are mostly consumed in English. Moreover, the very language of fandom, the vocabulary of names, places, phrases, intertextual references and inside-jokes, remains in English, even while the spoken and written language is Hebrew. 

            An interesting exception is the word “fan” itself, which illustrates the special position of comics and sci-fi/fantasy fandom among other types of fans in Israel. While there is some literature on Israeli sports fans or music fans, the word “fan” (מעריץ), used to label the participants in this cultural practice, does not apply well to comics fans. In its translation to Hebrew, the word “fan” often retains the derogative meaning that originated from the word ‘fanatic’ before its reappropriation by fans; in the context of sports fans it is translated as “supporter” or “follower”, and in the context of celebrities or popular content as “admirer” or “adorer”. In contrast, comics and sci-fi/fantasy fans separate themselves from these other types of fans and describe themselves as geeks—hence the name of the community’s Facebook group, The Geekery.

            Like other parts of fan jargon, the label “geek” has not been translated to Hebrew and is preserved in the original pronunciation, spelled with Hebrew letters (גיק). Similarly, despite their rejection of the word “fan,” the word “fandom” actually retained its place in geeky vocabulary, though used for a very specific meaning. “Fandom” (פאנדום) is only used to describe specific fan communities organized around objects of geeky repertoire, while the word is completely unfamiliar to people outside the comics and sci-fi/fantasy community. This gap may explain the lack of literature on Israeli fandoms—for outsiders, they are not perceived as a community, but rather as individuals or people that “are into superhero stories.”

Globalized fandom and (the absence of) local fan objects

It is no secret that the history of comics in the US is closely integrated with Jewish history. Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, as well as many others, were responsible for today’s most famous superheroes (Superman, Batman, The Avengers and many others). According to recent statistics, 74% of the Israeli population is Jewish (the remainder are 21% Muslim, Christian, or Druze Israeli Arabs, and 5% other minorities). This Jewish sector (mostly the secular or atheist part of it) is the most dominant in the comics or sci-fi/fantasy community in Israel. The cultural proximity to the Jewish roots of comics could theoretically have been an important asset for the Israeli fandom, yet it seems that the universal (or rather, American) traditions are more appealing to the local fandom than the Jewish ones.

ICon festival, the next generation (credit: Dan Ofer)

This tendency towards a globalized fandom can also be seen in the absence of local fan objects. With the exception of a limited number of works and creators that are Israeli in essence (and can’t be comprehensibly translated to other cultures), the vast majority of the content for fan practices is imported. One "superhero" with clear Israeli roots is actress Gal Gadot, portraying Wonder Woman in the DCEU films. The marketing efforts of the films in Israel directly targeted the Israeli national sentiment, and indeed the film gained an impressive popularity among the general population in Israel—but not as much within the comics fandom. Instead of local patriotic sentiment, the local fan community criticized her character and especially her Israeli accent, which did not pass as exotic/authentic enough for a princess of Themyscira. The authenticity of the franchise, as it seems, was put above the national pride. 

The global nature of fandom seems unique to the contemporary, digital age. At least until the 1980s and 90s, the local sentiment, traditions and language were a higher priority, with the names of superheroes and other characters receiving Hebrew translations: Batman was translated to “The Bat Man” (איש העטלף) and Spiderman’s aunt May was called in Hebrew Maya (מאיה), a common Hebrew name. Today, these translations are received with utter ridicule. English, and the direct access to original contents, became dominant along with the rise of the internet.

Local traditions and identities

Israel, as a young 72-year-old state thought to be a homeland for the Jewish people, brought in and integrated immigrants from various different cultures. Even within the Jewish population today, these ethnic tensions remain integral to identities discourse, sometimes subconsciously, and could also be meaningful for thinking about identities within Israeli fandom. The main oppositional identity, according to self-defined geeks, is that of the “ars” —a derogatory term referring to men perceived as ignorant, coarse, and aggressive—which is stereotypically connected to Mizrahi Jews (of Sephardic/Arabic origin), as opposed to Ashkenazi Jews (of European origin).

Multiculturalism? Israeli cosplayers, English signs, and religious participants in the background. ICon festival, Tel- Aviv (credit: ICon festival official).

The perceived uniformity of fandom in Israel (as a universal-secular subculture) seems less homogenous when looking at the more complex relations between different sectors of Israeli society. Many religious communities in Israel (Jewish, Muslim, or Druze) remain culturally closed groups, protecting their own traditions from either local or global culture. On the more extreme end, the ultra-orthodox (Haredi) Jews oppose to television and films altogether, and are religiously prohibited from using the internet (or internet-enabled mobile phones). Despite limitations of access, some religious (though not ultra-orthodox) fans manage to bridge the gaps between their commitment to religious rules and fandom practices, making some adjustments or adaptations (like reading “clean” texts without explicit sexual references, or creating “Kosher” cosplays that adhere to the laws of modest dress).

            In general, the Israeli comics and sci-fi fandom adheres to global trends in terms of the objects of fandom, the language, and the practices. Still, as any local community, it is also uniquely shaped by local cultural contexts. For example, the large amount of activities for young children at conventions (appropriate for the country with the highest fertility rate of all OECD countries, with an average of 3.1 children), or a decision to ban the use of weapons in cosplay, including plastic or cardboard tools (a request put in during a stressful period of terror attacks). The community’s main platforms for interaction (like The Geekery or ICon) appear to be blurring the local, ethnic, or religious attributes, and celebrating the universality of fandom. 

Hadas Gur-Ze'ev is a Ph.D. student in Communication at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem (supervised by Prof. Neta Kligler-Vilenchik). Her research interests include popular culture, participatory platforms, and the negotiations of gendered power relations in digital environments. Her current research focuses on feminist trends and misogynistic countertrends in online discussions in fan spaces.

Back to School: Podcasting -- Origin Stories

This spring, I am teaching — for the first time — a course on the history and craft of podcasting as part of an initiative in the journalism school to expand its offerings in this area. As a hardcore podcasting fan, and as someone who co-hosts the How Do You Like It So Far? podcast, I am looking forward to.getting my students to explore the breadth of what’s out there right now, and as a long time radio buff, I want to introduce them to older work which lay the foundation for our current practices. As always, I want to share my syllabi here. This one is especially rich since it has links to the specific episodes I want students to listen to outside of class, though there will be more listening inside class.

Course Description

Podcasting is the new, hot medium that has seen exponential growth over the last two decades. Millions of podcasts have been created, covering an infinite number of subjects and formats -- everything from news and documentary, fiction, conversational series, and educational series. Podcasting has tapped into a cultural phenomenon, reaching listeners on a personal and on a collective level. The medium has its roots in oral traditions, the radio medium, and film and theatre sensibilities, while technological advances allow new definitions of the way audiences and content producers interact.  

Podcasting has become an area of critical examination as well, as podcasting evolves into a key part of the media landscape, reflecting social and cultural touchpoints in society. This course will explore the historical and theoretical underpinnings that have brought the podcasting movement to its current form, roots which take us through commercial, public, grassroots, and underground radio movements across the past century.  Through readings, lectures, and written work, students will situate podcasting in relation to earlier generations of audio technology and identify some key figures in radio history and the ways they continue to influence choices made by contemporary podcast producers.

Above all, we will be actively listening and critically engaging with innovative works, including experimental media texts going back to the origins of radio, as well as works illustrating the diverse functions of the contemporary podcast. This range of material reflects this course’s goal of broadening exposure to current practices and audiences. We will also examine how the emergence of podcasting has impacted the diversity of voices and perspectives finding an audience, and how global access contributes to regionally specific content. In the process of this exploration, the course hopes to sensitize students to the roles which noise, sound, music, and the human voice may play in constructing soundscapes and telling meaningful stories (fictional and nonfictional).

Student Learning Outcomes 

 Map and identify the diverse historical models -- from classical radio drama to underground and pirate radio -- which have informed the development of contemporary podcasting.

 Define the basic building blocks of audio-based storytelling and examine how they are used in different podcasting genres.

 Listen to one podcast across the semester and evaluate how podcasting and radio create different relationships to their audiences and publics.

Assignments 

First Paper: Using examples we have considered so far in the class, write a short, five-page essay describing similarities and differences in the nature of radio and the nature of podcasting. Draw on course-assigned readings to provide some conceptual frameworks for your analysis.  (20 percent)

 Blackboard Notes: Each week, each student will use the Discussion Board feature on Blackboard to post some initial thoughts, reactions, questions, and comments about the materials assigned. These notes should be posted at least three hours prior to when the class is scheduled to meet. (20 Percent)

 Class Journal: Each student will select one ongoing podcast that they will listen to systematically across the semester, making some notes each week about their experiences consuming additional episodes of this material, the content featured in the episodes listened to each week, the ways that the podcast seeks to build listener loyalty over time, and the ways this podcast fits within the histories of the medium we have introduced across the semester. (30 Percent)

 Final Exam: Students will complete a comprehensive take-home final with questions designed to encourage reflection across topics and examples we have explored this term. (20 Percent)

 Class Participation: Students are expected to regularly attend and participate in class discussion. (10 Percent)

Course Schedule: A Weekly Breakdown
Important note to students: Be advised that this syllabus is subject to change - and probably will change - based on the progress of the class, news events, and/or guest speaker availability. 

Week 1  1/11 Noise, Sound, Music, Voice

LISTEN:

From BBC’s Noise: A Human History—

 “Echoes in the Dark “(14:37): https://beta.prx.org/stories/100722

“The Beat of the Drum” (14:20): https://beta.prx.org/stories/100883

“New Art of Listening” (14:33): https://beta.prx.org/stories/103047 

“Capturing Sound” (14:22):  https://beta.prx.org/stories/103056

Columbia Workshop “Broadway Evening” (38:09): https://podbay.fm/p/classic-radio-drama/e/1183454460

Guide to Getting Lost (32:38): https://soundcloud.com/jenniesavage/guide-to-getting-lost

(This piece is designed to be heard on a mobile phone while taking a walk.)

Suspense “Lentigen vs. The Ants” (27:08): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KPIw_4wE8c

READ:

Richard Berry, Chapter 2 in Podcasting: New Audio Culture and Digital Media(London: Palgrave McMillan, 2018)

(Rec.) David Hendy, “Echoes in the Dark” and “The New World of Listening,” and “Capturing Sound” in Noise: A Human History of Sound and Listening (New York: Ecco, 2013).

Week 2 1/18 Technologies of Sound: Radio, Cinema, Records, Podcasts

LISTEN:

Lost and Found Sound, “The Rise and Fall and Rise of Thomas Edison” (22:05): http://www.kitchensisters.org/stories/lost-found-sound/  

99 Percent Invisible, “Bone Music” (16:41): https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/bone-music/  

 Ways of Hearing, “Space” (24:06): https://www.radiotopia.fm/showcase/ways-of-hearing  

 Radio Lab, “60 Words” (1:09:16): https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/radiolab/episodes/60-words

READ: 

Martin Spinelli and Lance Dann, Chapter 2, Podcasting: The Audio Media Revolution(London: Bloomsbury, 2019).

Week 3 1/25 Bards and Storytellers

LISTEN:

BBC’s Noise: A Human History, ‘Epic Tales’ (14:35): https://beta.prx.org/stories/102879  

 Jean Shepherd, “A Christmas Story” (43:59): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkicEleOiTM 

 Lake Wobegon Stories, “You’re Not the Only One” (26:12): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-ZFo9S_z1k

Have You Head George’s Podcast?, ”A Greenfall Story” (27:00):https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p07qtmfs
The Moth, “Residual Effects” (21:20): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANPJz8QKBTw

READ:

Joe Lambert and Brooke Hessler, “The Work of Stories,” “The Stories of Our Lives,” Digital Storytelling: Capturing Lives, Creating Community(New York: Routledge, 2018).

Week 4  2/1 Publics and Audiences

LISTEN:

BBC’s Noise: A Human History, “Radio Everywhere” (14:37):https://beta.prx.org/stories/103063

 FDR fireside chat 1 (12:57): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ6FxYl9sRE

 Documentary about Norman Corwin (56:28):https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4668028

Rush Limbaugh (14:45-25:15): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NN vw MFw  

 America’s Town Meeting of the Air, “Should the U.S. Open Its Doors to Displaced Persons Now?” (Listen until 36:00),https://www.oldtimeradiodownloads.com/variety/americas-town-meeting-of-the-air/should-the-u-s-open-its-doors-to-displaced-persons-now-1946-10-31

READ:

Susan J. Douglas, “The Invention of the Audience,” Listening In: Radio and the American Imagination (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2004). 

Week 5  2/8 Documenting Ordinary Folks

 LISTEN:

CBS Workshop, “I Was the Duke” (I_Was_the_Duke.mp3  

Studs Terkel with Welfare Mothers (54:55): https://studsterkel.wfmt.com/programs/mothers-discuss-hardships-living-welfare  

 The Promise, “A Beautiful Day in the Projects” (23:39): https://wpln.org/post/the-promise-part-2-a-beautiful-day-in-the-projects/

Story Corps on Stonewall (22:45): https://storycorps.org/stories/remembering-stonewall/

 Snap Judgment, “Map of the Disappeared” (48:36): https://podyssey.fm/podcast/itunes283657561/episode23689191-Disappeared-Snap-Judgment

READ:

Dave Isay, “The Story of Story Corps,” Listening is An Act of Love: A Celebration of American Life from the Story Corps Project(New York: Penguin, 2008).

Week 6 2/15 The NPR Tradition 

LISTEN:

Sandy Toland, “The Lemon Tree” (41:39):mhttps://freshairarchive.org/segments/sandy-tolans-lemon-tree

 Code Switch, “A Letter from Young Asian Americans, to their Parents, about Black Lives Matter” (23:14):

https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/code-switch/id1112190608?i=1000373164987&mt=2  

 The Sporkful, “Aleppo Sandwich part 1” (28): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/10-years-1-aleppo-sandwich-pt-1/id350709629?i=1000491944395

 The Sporkful, “Aleppo Sandwich Part 2” (28): https://podcasts.apple.com/gh/podcast/10-years-2-aleppo-sandwich-pt-2-update/id350709629?i=1000491944396

Heavyweight, Episode 11—Christina (44:03): https://gimletmedia.com/shows/heavyweight/j4hlkd/11-christina

READ:

Scott Carrier, “The Jackie Kennedy Moment;”  The Kitchen Sisters, “Talking to Strangers;”  Sandy Tolan, “The Voice and the Place;” mIn Reality Radio: Telling True Stories Through Sound (Durham: University of North Carolina, 2017).

Week 7 2/22 This American Life and Serial

LISTEN:

This American Life, Abdi & the Golden Ticket (54:00): https://www.thisamericanlife.org/560/transcript  

Serial, “The Alibi” (53:55): https://serialpodcast.org/season-one

 S-Town, E1 (54:00):  https://stownpodcast.org/chapter/1  

 READ:

Rebecca Ora, “Invisible Evidence: Serial and the New Unknowability of Documentary,” in Podcasting: New Aural Cultures and Digital Media, Cham: Springer, 2018.

 Sarah Koenig and Julie Snyder, “One Story, Week by Week,” Reality Radio: Telling True Stories Through Sound (Durham: University of North Carolina, 2017)

Week 8 3/1 Black and Ethnic Radio

LISTEN:

Black Radio: Telling It Like It Was, Hour 1 “In the Beginning” and “Pride & Enlightenment, (51:59): https://beta.prx.org/stories/355118 

Black Radio: Telling It Like It Was, Hour 5 “Civil Rights” and “Let’s Have Church” (51:59): https://beta.prx.org/stories/355822  

The Last Pirates: Britain’s Rebel DJs (59:36): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI1l-CXBuGQ

The Stoop, “The Birth of Solomon” (31:50): http://www.thestoop.org/home/2018/5/1/episode-14-the-birth-of-solomon  

#Good Muslim, Bad Muslim, “Pins and Polls”: https://www.goodmuslimbadmuslim.com/podcast/2016/11/29/023-pins-and-polls   (Listen to the first half hour or so)

 READ:

John Fiske, “Blackstream Knowledge,” Media Matters: Race and Gender in U.S. Politics (New York: Routledge, 1996)

(Rec.) Richard Durham, Golden Age of Black Radio, Archives of African-American Music and Culture

Week 9 3/8 Amateur, Underground, Community Traditions

 LISTEN:

Prometheus Radio (1:00:45): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehcIjYbSsqo

Nancy, “Emma Gonzales Wants You to Vote,” (26:47): https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/nancy/episodes/emma-gonzalez-march-for-our-lives-vote 

Ear Hustle, “The Big No-No” (41:24): https://www.earhustlesq.com/episodes/2018/11/8/the-big-no-no  

 Illuminative on the Air, “We Have Medicine for Each Other” (54:54): https://illuminatives.org/illuminative-on-air-podcast/  

READ:

Lukasz Swiatek, “The Podcast as an Intimate Bridging Medium,” in Podcasting: New Aural Culture and Digital Media, Cham: Springer, 2018.

 (Rec.) Susan J. Douglas, “Popular Culture and Populist Technology: The Amateur Operators, 1906-1912,” Inventing American Broadcasting, 1899-1922(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989).

Spring Break 3/15 No class 

Week 10 3/22 Long Form Reporting

LISTEN

In the Dark: “The Crime” (34:46): https://www.apmreports.org/episode/2016/09/07/in-the-dark-1

 Gangster Capitalism, “The Side Door” (39): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/s1-the-college-admissions-scandal-i-ep-1-the-side-door/id1460320573?i=1000519261581

 The Caliphate, “The Recruitment” (33): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/chapter-two-recruitment/id1357657583?i=1000409977536

 The Caliphate, “An Examination” (30): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/an-examination-of-caliphate/id1357657583?i=1000502817283

The Refuge, “Sibling Rivalry” (12:15): https://www.thresholdpodcast.org/the-refuge-e1

Week 11 3/29 Regional Voices: The American South 

LISTEN:

Us and Them, “Hillers and Creekers” (36:04): https://www.wvpublic.org/section/arts-culture/2021-08-12/hillers-creekers

Gravy, “Korean BBQ in Coolsville: A Memphis Report” (20:41): https://www.southernfoodways.org/gravy/korean-bbq-in-coolsville-a-memphis-report/

 Buried Truths, “Pistols” (38): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pistols-s1-e1/id1334250929?i=1000407471797

READ:

(Rec.) Tara McPherson, “Feeling Southern: Home, Guilt and the Transformation of White Identity,” Reconstructing Dixie: Race, Gender and Nostalgia in the Imagined South(Durham: Duke University Press, 2003).

Week 12 4/5 The New Radio Drama

LISTEN:

Mercury Theater, War of the Worlds (57): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUsq3fLobxw  

 Homecoming, “Mandatory” (19:24): https://gimletmedia.com/shows/homecoming

Video Palace, “Somniloquy” (21): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/somniloquy/id1439247558?i=1000421971043  

 Limetown, “What We Know” (31:05): https://twoupproductions.com/limetown/podcast  

READ:

Martin Spinelli and Lance Dann, “Don’t Look Back: The New Possibilities of Podcast Drama” Podcasting: The Audio Media Revolution (Bloomsbury, 2019)

Week 134/12 Joking Around

LISTEN:

Jack Benny, “Christmas Episode” (29:21): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YN_FilhFmQ0, 

Stan Freeberg, “Christmas Dragnet” (6:38): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1vJ4sXetw4

 Bob and Ray, “Mr. Science” (2:57):  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J96h5viahAA

The Goon Show, “Rommel’s Treasure” (25:01): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuVFFNvyUT8

The Firesign Theater, “Nick Danger Third Eye” (28:09): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwG5c9IsgbA

 Welcome to Night Vale, “A Story of You” (25:33): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqGYhOZONn8

 Thrilling, Adventure Hour, “Sparks Nevada: Marshal on Mars” (24): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/from-the-vault-sparks-nevada-marshal-on-mars-cosmic/id408691897?i=1000473084191  

READ:

David Hendy, “You Are Not Alone: Podcast Communities, Audiences, and Welcome to Nightvale,” Podcasting: The Audio Media Revolution(Bloomsbury 2019)

Week 14 4/19 Listening to Music

LISTEN:

Song Exploder, “Janelle Monae” (19:07): http://songexploder.net/janelle-monae

Dolly Parton’s America, “Neon Moss” (45:15): https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/dolly-partons-america/episodes/neon-moss

Aria Code, “Verdi’s La Traviata” (33:10): https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/aria-code/episodes/aria-code-verdi-la-traviata-diana-damrau

READ:

Susan Douglas, “The Kids Take Over: Transistors, DJs and Rock’n’Roll,” Listening In: Radio and the American Imagination (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2004).

Week 15 4/26 Reconsidering the Past 

LISTEN:

You Must Remember This, “Hattie McDaniel” (55:43) http://www.youmustrememberthispodcast.com/episodes/2019/10/23/hattie-mcdaniel-six-degrees-of-song-of-the-south-episode-2

Slow Burn, “Martha” (27:27): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/s1-ep-1-martha/id1315040130?i=1000395358934  

Uncivil, “The Paper” (21:01): https://gimletmedia.com/shows/uncivil/z3h6dd/the-paper

READ:

Sarah Larsen, “‘Uncivil’: The Civil War Stories We Didn’t Learn in School,” The New Yorker, October 5, 2017.

My Favorite Discoveries in 2021 Among Older Films

Altogether, I viewed 228 feature films and shorts in 2021 from 2019 or earlier. Almost all of these were watched online. Most of these choices were part of programatic deep dives or film festival experiences, so rather than offering a ranking, I thought I would describe some of my excursions into film history this past year.

50s Science Fiction — I began the year with a yen to watch as many creature features as I could find, a yen fed by several box sets I had gotten for Christmas, which led me to ordering more boxed sets, and finally starting with a year by year listing of 50s science fiction films, seeing how many of them I could find and watch online — mostly through YouTube. I did not get past 1952, so this is a project I hope to continue into the coming year. My fascination was with stories of catastrophe and the different mechanisms by which the filmmakers imagined the society responded to large-scale threat, issues which spoke powerfully to the present moment. And since the world rarely actually ends in these films, these films ultimately provide reassurance and resolution. Some of what I saw were classics that I had seen through the years, but I saw new things watching them in conversation with lesser known titles. But here are some of the discoveries I made — mostly deep cuts from the era that time has forgotten, perhaps unfairly. Most of these are more interesting films than great films, but then I wasn’t looking for cinematic masterpieces. The 27th Day (1957) is one of several films I watched which emphasis global responses — an alien extracts five ordinary people, each from a different global power, and provides them each with weapons that can destroy the planet, leaving them with the choice of whether humanity deserves to survive. It’s a metaphor for mutually assured destruction, released at the height of the Cold War. 12 to the Moon (1960) gives us a multinational space mission, representing astronauts from the super powers and from a range of developing nations. It anticipates the diversity on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise on Star Trek and the multinationalism of the recent Away television series. Of course, the characters are all stereotypes but it’s fascinating to see how national and gender stereotypes are played against each other here. The Invisible Boy (1957) uses Robbie the Robot, first introduced in Fantastic Planet, to tell a story of a scientist father and his precocious young son confronting a cosmic crisis, as robots threaten to rule over humanity and Robbie, who has befriended the boy, has to decide which side he’s on.

Film Comedy — I returned to teaching American film comedy for the first time in more than twenty years, which led to me watching as many films in preparation before the fall seamster started. So many titles have come out on DVD, especially comedy shorts from the silent period, and many films you would have had to track down in archives are now flowing freely on YouTube. I went back through the classic four silent performers, Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, and Langdon, seeing. many of the later two comics films for the first time. I finally really grappled with the alienness of Langdon’s approach to slapstick and found myself drawn to the films he made after he parted ways with Capra. I realized that my reading Name Above the Title, Capra’s memoir, when I was a teen, had biased my perceptions, but I was especially drawn to The Chaser (1928) where the alienness of Langdon’s persona is coupled with play with gender identity: a judge sentences Harry to wear a dress and do the housework. My students found this a fascinating study in gender fluidity, far more ambiguous than most of the anti-suffrage films I have seen, about women ruling over men. The inter titles in particular seem to play with the concepts of masculinity and femininity in fascinating ways. My consumption of silent comedy led me back to Sidewalk Stories (1989), a film I had taught several decades before, and so it constitutes a rediscovery. Charles Lane, a Black filmmaker, revisits Chaplin’s world — especially The Kid — for a more contemporary representation of homelessness and the way society perceives and treats its “tramps.” It is funny and touching in equal measures and remarkably well done for a first feature made as a student film at NYU. I have long wanted to check out the Crazy Gang — a music hall troop who was the British counterparts of the Marx Brothers. I was delighted to find several of their films online, and was particularly taken by A Ok For Sound, (1937) which has been the most meta of their works I have seen so far. I would describe it as falling somewhere between Night at the Opera and Hellzapoppin, perhaps not as good as the later but in the same ball park. I also worked my way through the surviving feature films of Raymond Griffith, the comedies of Douglas Fairbanks, and as the year draws on a close, the films of Frank Tashlin. Throughout, I was left really admiring what I saw of Hal Roach’s productions and really eager to see more.

Film Festivals — I was able to attend four online film festivals this year, each dedicated to historical films, but with different biases: Bologna, Pordonone, Turner Classic Movies, and Los Angeles Cinecon. I have attended all four in person and missed the range of titles normally offered, not to mention the conversations around the films, and we missed altogether the San Francisco Silent Film festival which has been one of my annual highlights. The highlights of Bologna were Belphegor (,1927) a four part French serial (each part lasting more than an hour) involving a shadowy figure lurking in the Louvre and a crack detective trying to identify the culprit. It is full of the stuff of the pulp imagination of the era. I was also taken by two noir films they featured (the original Nightmare Alley (1947) and I Wake Up Screaming (1941), which has left me hoping to watch more noir in 2022. Pordone brought me Phil-For-Short (1919) a silent film about an independent spirt who today we might call nonbinary, which introduced me to the charming silent screen actress Evelyn Greely. My favorites from TCM were two titles that dealt with threats to democracy — Black Legion (1937), in which Humphrey Bogart joins a white supremicist organization, and The Mortal Storm (1940), which depicts the rise of Nazism from the perspective of a free-thinking academic family centered around James Stewart. I had seen both before, but they spoke to the current moment with particular poignancy. And the joy of Cinecon is its profoundly anti-canonical impulses. I have been enjoyed being introduced to the films of Judy Canova, a broad physical comedian who crossed over to the screen from radio and recoding, with a hillbilly twang to her singing and a wonderful personality. This year, they showed Sleepy-Time Gal (1942) which is my favorite of the films I have seen with her so far. There was so much more that interested me at each of these events and I hope these festivals continue to provide online offerings for those of us who can not be there in person.

Some other highlights: My current research interest in post-war children’s media gave me a chance to watch A Boy Ten Feet Tall/Sammy Goes South, Alexander MacKendrick’s 1963 saga of a white boy who wanders across Africa alone in the midst of the Suez Crisis. It is full of haunting images and a great supporting performance by Edgar G. Robinson and led me to watch Spielberg’s Empire of the Sun, (1987) again, upon which its influence can be strongly felt. I participated in an online conference about 50s and 60s American westerns and a fascinating presentation led me to check out Walk Like A Dragon (1960), one of the few American westerns of the period to deal sympathetically and in depth with the experiences of Chinese-Americans. Its treatment of a cross-racial romance may be problematic in our time, but was progressive in its own, and sufficiently complex to keep one scratching one’s head throughout.

My 20 Favorite Films of 2021

In 2021, I watched 81 current (2021) or recent (late 2020) films. I enjoyed most of them. Since I don’t technically review films for a living, I watch only what I want to watch and am reasonably informed so few turkeys cross my path these days. I have placed these in alphabetical order, but if I had to pick my favorite film this year, it would almost certainly be West Side Story.

Black Widow — This has been an exceptionally good year for Marvel on both film and television. I also really enjoyed The Eternals, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, and Spider-man: No Way Home. But somehow, this is the one I landed on as the best of this year’s superhero movies. I love the dynamics between Scarlet Johanson and Florence Pugh (who stole my heart this year here and in Hawkeye). This film demonstrated that superheroes can tell female-centric stories as well as they tell masculine power fantasies, not that this was in doubt after Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel, but I would argue this one did it better than either.

CODA — One of the most heart-felt films I’ve seen in a long time. I was honestly touched by the struggles of this young woman, daughter deaf parents, who finds herself in music and struggles to figure out how she can separate herself from a family she knows needs her. Each character is so vividly drawn and each has their rasons, as the Renior quote goes.

Crip Camp — This is a powerful story of a group of disabled youth, who created an almost utopian world at a summer camp, and then forged a network that working together transformed the laws and policies that impact their lives. It’s remarkable that they have such compelling footage of these activists at various periods of their life and we are able to watch a small group of people lead the way to change the world.

Dune — This is a transformative experience. Sure, it’s a bit slow but it deftly lays the foundations for what’s the come. It is probably the most fully realized world on screen this year, succeeding where other artists have tried and to my eyes, failed to capture Herbert’s classic science fiction saga.

The Father — I have been haunted by this film since I saw it relatively early in 2021. The performances were compelling, but what I really remember vividly are the ways the mise-en-scene gets disrupted in subtle yet unsettling ways to compelling the perspective of the protagonist’s growing disorientation and memory loss.

The Green Knight — A haunting immersion into a mythic realm which puts a fresh new spin on the medieval classic.

Gunpowder Milkshake — I stumbled into this one on Netflix with no expectations and it may be my biggest surprise of the year. If you like John Wick, if you like female revenge action movies, if you liked the gunplay in early John Woo films, then this one is for you.

In the Heights — I saw the original Broadway production and I saw a ground-shaking performance in the West End more than a decade later, so I was primed for John Chu’s big screen version and I was not disappointed. I get the critiques of the film’s color-ism, but I also admire the beautifully staged musical number, especially the revamp of Esther Williams in the pool scene and some of the others which are alternatively soulful and celebratory. This was what I needed as I was coming out from my pandemic cacoon.

King Richard — I don’t like sports, except for fictional ones (wrestling, quidditch) but I do like sports movies, and this was a very compelling one, even if I still have reservations about centering the story of the Williams sister on their father. The film complicates this in so many ways, also offering a compelling portrait of their mother and acknowledging some critiques of their father’s hucksterism and bullying.

Lost Daughter — Olivia Coleman can act and Maggie Gyllenhaal can direct, damn it! I watched this one only a few hours before I am writing this post, so my emotions are still raw and have not settled into a long term perspective. But I wanted to watch every twitch of her face, as the film slow opens up its secrets and forces us to acknowledge the reasons why it sucks to be a mother in a patriarchal culture.

Luca— Disney also had a great year between this, Encanto, and Raya and the Last Dragon. I liked all three and I’ve kept swapping them on and off this list, but ultimately, this story of boyhood friendship across cultural difference — not to mention all of the call back to European art cinema — spoke to my Baby Boom heart.

The Mitchells Vs. The Machines — My favorite animated film this year. It’s imaginative, it’s funny, it plays with genre, and it has something to say about the continuing value of family. (I seem to be feeling a lot of traditional values this year,. It would seem that old ideas can be expressed in compelling new forms.)

Nightmare Ally — I am a big fan of Del Torro and of the original film noir and there’s a pretty decent graphic novel version, also, so I came into this primed and it did not disappoint me. I am a sucker for anything set at a circus or carnival, and this film captures that atmosphere with such vividness. It’s a pretty bleak narrative arc, to be sure, but It also teaches us a lot about how this world operates — how to do a cold read, how to develop codes to signal each other in mentalist acts, and why it is a bad idea to play with people’s faith and memory for money.

Passing — Another compelling period piece — this one set in midcentury Harlem, as two women, childhood friends, reconnect, and play out the consequences of their different life choices. What I found most striking here was the black and white cinematography — the play with light and shadow makes this story about crossing racial boundaries work.

Plan B — There have been three stories in recent years where two women travel together in search of an abortion or birth control. Never Rarely Sometimes Always made my list last year for a dramatic treatment of this same material. . I have-not yet seen Unplanned. But this one earns a spot on this list for its ability to merge raunchy sex comedy, the road trip, the post-feminist female friendship story, and some earnest advocacy into a rich mix.

Power of the Dog — I couldn’t take my eyes off Benedict Cumberbatch who moves through the film like a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike — the embodiment of toxic masculinity. He shed some of the braininess we associate with his on-screen persona in favor of a character who bullies everyone he meets. Again, this is a film where we watch as events gradually uncover what makes the characters tick, and the closing events managed to catch me by surprise, even if the seeds are planted for them almost from the first scenes.

The Sit In — Harry Belefonte was guest host of the Tonight Show in 1968 and managed to book a who’s who in politics and popular culture in the late 1960s. This documentary reconstructs what happened during a transformative moment in television history, which most of us never knew happened, from a fragmentary archive and helps to situate each of these figures for audiences who may not have been alive at the time.

Summer of Soul — Another great documentary about popular culture in the 1960s which taps a long hurried archive of materials and gives them currency for new audiences. Music is always my blind-spot so I did not expect to like this one as much as I did, so I resisted a lot of the hype and came to it late, but damn! I am just getting started with the Beatles documentary series on Disney Plus, but suspect if I had made more progress, it would have had a place on my list as another great representation of 1960s pop culture.

Tick, Tick, Boom — Let me just say that Lin-Manuel Miranda had one hell of a year! I am not a fan of Rent so I did not know what to expect here, but this portrait of a young musical composer was a loving tribute to Broadway and arrived just in time for me to mourn the loss of Steven Sondheim. It was both well-made and well-timed not only in relation to Sondheim’s death but the reopening of Broadway theaters.

West Side Story — Here’s another one which won me over despite some skepticism about remaking what has been a cinematic classic. But then there have been multiple Broadway stagings through the years, as each artist has struggled with the richness of this material and the limitations of the racial stereotypes at its heart. Tony Kushner’s screenplay goes a long way, throwing out most of the original dialogue, providing greater context for the core conflict, providing greater depth to the Puerto Riican characters, introducing rawer, less stylized violence, and demonstrating that a mix of Spanish and English dialogue still conveys the emotional ore of the story even for those who do not know Spanish (a fight with previous Broadway productions). Add to this moral authority that Rita Moreno brings to her part and a heartbreaking performance by Ariana DeBose as Anita. Spielberg’s direction often softens the blow, but this film hits hard, despite the bright colors and lively musical numbers.

Honorable mentions: Beyond the Disney and Marvel films already referenced. Jungle Cruise and Cruela were the only two films I saw twice in the cinema, and I enjoyed them both (no apologies) and will happily return to future installments of these franchises. One Night in Solo is an imperfect and ultimately disappointing film but it’s one that I kept thinking about weeks after I saw it, and that counts for something. Let me toss Ron’s Gone Wrong on the list of animated films which held my attention, but it pales before The Mitchells vs. The Machines in terms of telling stories of digital life.

This list was written without me seeing some of the films that have gotten attention at the end of the year including Don’t Look Up, Licorice Pizza, Meet the Ricardos, and Belfast, so do not read anything into their exclusion from this list. Circumstances have prevented me from seeing them yet.

My 20 Favorite Television Experiences from 2021

I have watched 100 television series (or events) in their entirety this year. All of them I enjoyed enough to keep watching. Some of them were mere distractions. Some felt truly fresh and original. What follows are my 20 favorites that I watched in 2021 — a few of which were catch ups from 2020 or even before — but together they represent a snapshot of some of my favorite media experiences of the year. They are listed in alphabetical order.

Atypical — This family drama-comedy wrapped up its final season, and stuck the landing. This series was heart-felt from start to finish, telling a story about a neuroatypical young man, his family and his friends, as they work together to help him develop the life skills he needs to live on his own terms.

Betty — I am so not the demographic for this half-hour drama about a group of young, female, mostly queer, mostly BIPOC skateboarders, but once I started watching, I could not stop. Betty has the look and feel of an underground movie shot mostly hand held by people riding boards as these women confront everything the world throws at them. If you felt that Mind the Gap used skateboarding to teach you something about working class masculinity, Betty uses skateboarding to teach us about contemporary feminism.

Bosch — I can’t figure out why it took me this long to discover this first-rate police drama but when I did find it, I fell hard. My wife, my mother-in-law, and I watched all seven seasons in a two month period this year, and I would have gladly have stayed for more. Perhaps my favorite aspect was the rich portrayal of Los Angeles, including one episode which took place almost entirely on my block in DTLA.

Dickinson — Between Emily Dickinson and Kate Bishop, Hailee Steinfeld had one heck of a good year. This is such a literate and intelligent comedy, one which reads the New England book culture of the 19th century as if it was a contemporary coming of age series. Some of the best moments in season 2 dealt with the raw emotions surrounding the Civil War and the ways our characters process the fad for opera, both very historically specific, but the glue that holds it together is Steinfeld and the other cast playing characters that feel totally anachronistic in those candle lit parlors. In this same spirit, I am looking forward to seeing season 2 of The Great.

Gentefied — A Mexican-American family — stronger together than they are as individuals — battle gentrification, economic issues, and the threat of deportation, even as they find love and figure out who they want to be in life. What really works here is the particularity of these characters and the locally specific culture they inhabit.

Hacks — I don’t do cringe comedy and this one has plenty of cringe-worthy moments of human embarrassment. Every time the characters start to seem likable and more to the point start to like each other they do something else which is really nasty or otherwise messes up their relationship. But, I still love the relationship between an old school comedy and her very new school gag writer.

High on the Hog: An enlightening account of the historic evolution of southern cooking, tracing its roots back to Africa, through slavery, and into its current revival. I ended up going to Charleston and pigging out on some of the foods depicted here — part of my Southern heritage.

Lupin — This was the perfect getaway series of this year — beautiful locations, smart long-cons and heists, a compelling protagonist, an over-arching revenge saga, witty dialogue, and fast-paced action.

Masters of the Universe - Revelations — Kevin Smith’s intelligent revamp of the He-Man franchise is like the very best fan fiction. It fleshes out the long-neglected female characters, it fills in important bits of back story, it explores the emotional and psychological consequences of the action, it raises the stakes by killing off. (and resurrecting) beloved characters, it asks and answers questions fans have long speculated, and otherwise it offers a compelling drama for anyone who grew up watching the series (or in many case, was a parent who saw the episodes way too many times when it first aired). I liked a number of animated series this year — from Harley Quinn to Star Trek Below Decks to Invincible to What If? and Star Wars Visions— but this is the one which has stuck with me the most.

Only Murders in the Building — Steve Martin, Martin Short, and Selena Gomez are spectacular together, add a supporting cast full of old favorites, toss in a compelling who-dun-it and a deft spoof of true crime podcasts, and shake well. So much fun!

Q, Into the Storm — This is the television documentary series that I have spent the most time thinking about this year — a compelling, unflinching look at Q-Anon, which hit me between the eyes because I recognized that its roots lie in the participatory culture and politics that I have so often embraced through my writing over the years.

The Queen’s Gambit — I waited longer than I should to catch up with this one because I couldn’t imagine being compelled by a television series about chess. I was wrong. Nuff Said. And then I repeated the same kinds of mistakes by being late to the party on Mayor of Easton, Cruel Summer, and The White Lotus, which each packed the drama and brought the feels, but I didn’t find them as compelling as watching this woman kicks on a chessboard.

Reservation Dogs— This remarkable series was more than a breakthrough in representation, introducing us to a range of Native American characters, created by a mostly Indigenous writer’s room, though it is certainly that. It has the surrealism of Atlanta at its best, the character focus of early Master of None or Ramy, and distinctly deadpan Native American sense of humor that can catch you totally by surprise. I also liked Rutherford Falls, especially in its treatment of debates around local history and controversial monuments and its depiction of what happens when the Red world meets the White world. But in retrospective, it felt more conventional than Reservation Dogs.

Sex Education— This is so much more than a teen sex comedy with much of this season centering on the choices the adult parents made, especially the ethical dilemmas which teachers face when the new principal runs roughshod over the rights and emotional needs of the students.

Snowpiercer — A Korean film based on a French graphic novel turned into an American television series produced by a multinational corporation makes the affirmative case for class warfare and ultimately revolution. Daveed Diggs steals the show, but he is well supported by Jennifer Connelly, Allison Wright, and Mickey Sumner, among others. It’s your basic post-apocalyptic saga. See also Y the Last Man and Sweet Tooth for stories which felt a bit more uneven but also had something to say to a world still in pandemic lockdown.

Squid Game — Brutal. yes — that’s the word, brutal. Korean popular media is riding on a high right now. And this is the series that took the world by storm. By now, you have decided whether you want to watch it or not. I watched it. I couldn’t stop watching it. And I would watch more. I also watched Hellbound and could. not look away, but ultimately not as impactful.

Survivor Australia — After a long drought last year of reality competition series, I checked out the down under counterpart of American Survivor, which has long reached my attention from fan discussions but is now legally available at the Paramount streaming site. The most recent season is one of the best in Survivor history, thanks to the “cockroach of Bankstown” — a political operative who always has another trick up his sleeve. I had mixed responses to the new American Survivor with its format and rules changes — some good characters and more or less satisfying outcome, but Australian Survivor ultimately interested me more.

Ted Lasso — soooo good! Maybe not as fresh as the first season, but it brought in some darker moments that helped to round out our understanding of Ted and brought its female characters more screen time. And Roy Kent gets funnier in each new episode, as the gruff, no nonsense baller copes with life off the footy field.

Wandavision — The MTU (Marvel Television Universe) has brought me so much pleasure across the year. This one took two characters — Scarlet Witch and Vision — which had failed to register with me in the films and did something really fresh and compelling. This series put meta in the multiverse with its evocations of the history of American sitcoms and its account of the worlds which people create out of their denial when mourning a traumatic loss. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier had its moments — mostly involving Isaiah Bradley. Loki was amazing in its own way. What if? was hit or miss but when it hit, it draws real blood. And Hawkeye ended the year with a bang! Those scenes between Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova do for superheroes what Killing Eve did for spies, and I can’t take my eyes off Maya Lopez when she’s on my small screen. And I am going to be really intrigued to watch Doctor Strange deliver on all of these trans media hooks and Easter eggs.

We are Lady Parts — This under-rated British series delights with its portrayal of an all-female, all-Muslim punk rock band, with each character giving us a different representation of the ways these women negotiate their faith and their family lives to find room to express themselves when they go on stage.

Honorable Mention (Other than those mentioned above): Bridgerton; The Chair; Doom Patrol; Great Pottery Throw Down; How to; Young Rock, As the new year begins, I am enjoying watching Maid, Lost in Space, Station 11, and The Beatles: Get Back but not far enough along to put any of them on my list.

Global Fandom Conversation Series: Aianne Amado (Brazil) and Simone Driessen (The Netherlands)

Local yet global?

AA: Now, as for the overlapping of localness with international culture consumption, both José Martin-Barbero and Pierre Bourdieu can offer noteworthy explanations: they defend that everyday life aspects such as family, religion, education, social class etc. impact directly how we, individually and collectively, understand each object. When centering “mediation” to the discussion, Martin-Barbero contests those who say that globalization will “kill” local culture and traditions, arguing that local experiences also implicates how those products are target and consumed in different cultures (thinking about so many american artists singing in spanish for the latin audience) and, therefore, it is not as much of a “cultural domination” as it is a “cultural trade” (though, evidently, not equitable). 

In that sense, I also think it is important to talk about how our local cultural objects shape and are shaped by globalization. To start with Brazil, it is visible how American pop culture inspires our content, like the country's main divas such as Anitta and Pabllo Vittar, and also our new TV productions, that are moving away from the telenovela model and approaching the mainstream series format. However, the inspiration does not take over the whole product: even in her english and spanish songs, many featuring international singers, Anitta adds elements of Brazilian music genres (likeBahia’s percussion and Rio’s mpb and, the genre that made her famous, funk); Pabllo Vittar blends perfectly pop beats with regional styles, making even the one and only Lady Gaga sing to “arrocha”; and Netflix’s Invisible City incorporates the platform narrative format to tell the story of local folklore’s characters. And it is not a coincidence that all of these examples have experienced great public reception, since strategies like those captivate even Brazilians who once had a strong preference over international culture.

On the other hand, Brazilian pop culture also has its share of transnational fandoms – avid consumers of productions that, mostly through the internet, discover new texts and interact with other local or global fans. Nevertheless, the “localness” is, once again, very much present: telenovelas like O Clone, Vale Tudo, Fina Estampa and A Escrava Isaura are so well received that they are bought and remade in different countries. Recreations are also common in songs, like the Englishand Spanish version of Ai, Se Eu Te Pego; the various covers of Garota de Ipanema; Black Eyed Peas’ remix of Mais Que Nada; and the Japanese remake of Chorando Se Foi. And I ask myself the same questions you did in your piece: “how were these fans able to follow these Brazilian, Portuguese-speaking and -singing texts when the fans’ main language was different? Moreover, why were those Brazilian contents so successful in such different countries?”

What do you think of those examples? Do you know any of them? I am also curious to know if there are similar cases in the Netherlands that could corroborate this line of thought. Although I am not an expert, I know that your country is responsible for many globally acclaimed reality tv shows like The Voice and Big Brother, for example. Why do you think that genre stands out? And how do you see the fans of such shows differentiate from one country to another? 

SD: You mention how globalization is of influence in Brazil, but not all-dominating. I wonder if Brazil also has a strong media production ecosystem. Like J-Pop or K-Pop, besides so many excellent talents from Brazil (like Anitta), B-Pop or whatever it could be called, does not seem to reach far. Is that partially due to language again? Or because these artists or films also have ‘enough’ by just reaching the Brazilian market? I’m fascinated by the idea of cultural trade and how this is present in both our cases: it is definitely present, and perhaps increasing in the Dutch media landscape. But before diving into that, let me present to you two Dutch versions of Ai, Se Eu Te Pego: one that somewhat follows an original translation of the Brazilian lyrics, and one that is more freely interpreted, even using Spanish in it over Portuguese. The original song was quite popular in the Netherlands, in its original form and people really tried to sing along in Portuguese. So, perhaps that is already somewhat telling of how open the Dutch are to cultural trade. 
            I think we spot a similar pattern in the Netherlands when it comes to ‘somewhat resembling the American / Hollywood formula, but with a local touch’ than the one you mention to be present in Brazil. Yes, also in the Netherlands, because it’s such a small country we have many cultural objects taking after a ‘global’ model. As a music researcher, I think this is very visible in how bands perform and create videos, particularly those with international fan bases (singing in English too), like pop rockers Kensington, or Chef Special, or the more metal/goth subcultural act Within Temptation. 
                        When talking about music, things are somewhat different: here the local is surely influenced by the global. Yet, there are also some unique trends to point to. The Netherlands is a very diverse society, with many cultures living in a small country. And although Dutch hiphop/rap is one of the most popular genres (which comes with its own set of fans…), at times artists singing in another language do have a breakthrough. Currently, singer Rolf Sanchez, who sings in Spanish is quite popular. That is remarkable, for Spanish is not such a common language for the Netherlands. 

            Yet, what all these examples we exchange here also demonstrate, is that yes indeed we are under influence of globalization! But apparently the consumers (the fans!) are also demanding some streak of authenticity or perhaps relatability or recognition in them. Is that then where the local becomes important or, at the very least, becomes visible? Would this be why artists like Anitta or Pabllo Vittar, but for the Dutch also those artists combining music with Dutch lyrics (I will add some examples!) are so popular? And has this always been the case? How do you see that reflecting on our discussion and the Brazilian examples mentioned? 

You briefly mentioned the Reality TV show formats, Big Brother, The Voice... we apparently are also able to inspire other countries to copy those formulas (that sounds bold: but those formulas have become global successes). I wonder how they differ in Brazil: are the fans equally as co-productive and active in indeed engaging with them? I feel that The Voice (when it was broadcasted/ whenever it is broadcasted) gains many many followers, but not really a big hit talent anymore. Is that due to fans being saturated with such shows? Or perhaps the fans are growing younger? 

            Nevertheless, one of the biggest hit shows at the moment in the Netherlands (actually it’s a co-production with Belgium) is shaped very much like an American series, maybe you have seen it: Undercover. So, here the cultural trade is visible once more. But also, this co-exists with our Dutch, very local soap operas. 

AA: So, as I see it, our music industries differ in a few points. It is unusual for us to hear big local songs in other languages (the exception being Anitta’s current international career, but mostly because the fans want to support her even if they do not necessarily know how to sing the songs). I wonder if it has to do with English being taught broadly in the Netherlands (I remember having no trouble at all communicating with Dutchs while I was there!). 

I also loved to know the Dutch have a very local soap-opera culture. I believe the soap-opera format, based directly in everyday life, makes it the least likely to yield to international production standards and it makes a great counterpoint to foreign influences.

That leads to your questions: In Brazil we have Globo, our most popular TV channel and one of the biggest media conglomerates in the world. Because of them, Brazil is a powerhouse in the entertainment industry. A huge part of our cultural production is permeated by it, but their main products are still telenovelas. So, were the few B-pop groups that (prematurely) existed active today, in the BTS era, Globo would make sure to sign them in every live audience program and with special appearances in many telenovelas, therefore, being embraced by mainstream media.

The reach provided by the conglomerate (and now more and more by the internet as well) is also why we can look at the local market as “enough” for many artists. To keep using the music industry as an example, while the Brazilian pop genre is heavily influenced by its American counterpart, the genres that are currently topping the charts are the most “local” ones, such as Sertanejo and Funk. Those artists benefit from a market that has the usual hardcore Brazilian fans but also hundreds of thousands of ordinary consumers that are just happy to hear and sing the song occasionaly. To become a global phenomenon is a dream of many, but only a few are able to do such a thing and when they do, it is always a much-acclaimed feat - Michel Telo’s Ai Se Eu Te Pego is one of the most recent cases. Case in point, I for one was amazed and consumed by a bit of patriotism with the videos you showed me (thank you so much, by the way!). It is this weird mix of “wait, this language does not quite match this rhythm” and “oh! they are enjoying something I have lived with all my life”. 

I agree with your point of view about fans demanding authenticity and relatability while still inserting themselves and their idol globally and I think it is a claim that has been emerging with the shortening of borders made possible by new media - specially streaming platforms and Tik Tok’s viral contents. And the Reality Tv Shows are great illustrations of that (and yes, we all agree that those formulas are a global success!) since every country changes a few details here and there to adjust to what its population would most likely accept. 

SD: Aianne, I think that last part in your reflection is precisely what we see in the Netherlands too: the ordinary consumer is actually driving the market, while the hardcore fans are responsible for pushing that success of artists abroad. Still, it’s fascinating how language pops up over and over in the experiences of fans. It can be helpful, or even vital, to actually learn a new language to fully enjoy a fannish experience. 
            That also brings us to these points of authenticity and relatability once more. Due to the global nature of media products, fandoms grow into global communities as well. Also that’s a feat not just tied to Brazil or the Netherlands, but I’m pretty sure you Brazilians also had the Squid Game craze recently, and probably have tons of BTS fans, despite having such a strong media conglomerate locally! I think our examples and discussion here shows how fandom is able to break boundaries, yet with the critical note that this doesn’t happen for all fans (those who aren’t able or willing to learn a new language if needed, or those who don’t have the monetary means to travel or participate / spend time in fannish activities in different time zones for examples). Still, I do feel that the Brazilian and Dutch fans we see in our exchange are highly active and open-minded in their fan practices. Perhaps that’s a different scenario when we go beyond the world of media entertainment and look at the highly competitive field of sport?  

The Unique position of sports fans?

AA: That is a great question! It would feel wrong to end this without talking about something that truly unites our two universes: sports fans. We have our own “green and yellow” army to compete with your orange one! In times as divisive as now, sports and worldwide competitions like the Olympic Games are always something that can unite a nation. It is an opportunity to show the world how outstanding we are, and we let our disagreements slide to root and bring home the titles. Yet, there is something more than mere nationalism and maybe it is how we can relate and empathize more with athletes that share some of our backgrounds, that we know first-hand where they came from. So, we circle back to the importance of localness even in the most global event on Earth.

SD: That’s beautifully said about sports fandom: that we perhaps are more tied to the athletes, and we feel their struggle maybe even because we know where they came from. Also, because it perhaps is the only thing to unite both old and young, and people from different classes and regions, in an event like the World Football Championships, or the Olympics. 

That also then brings me back to studying fans. Here, in the Netherlands, I have the slightest feeling we’re starting to accept fandom more and more. It becomes easier to say, ‘I’m a fan of’, whereas a few years ago being a fan was either 1) childish, or 2) nerdy. I think that this development aligns somewhat with the rising popularity, or perhaps normalization of what can be called ‘nerd culture’ (e.g., shows like The Big Bang Theory and its spin-off Young Sheldon). And a more prominent position of ‘scientists’ in the entertainment media. Yet, ‘old’ fans are still taboo. In sports, it’s accepted, but in pop fandoms it’s looked down on. To give you an example, every winter the whole of the Netherlands goes crazy with the potential outlook they are able to ice skate again in nature (a frozen river or meadow). And they all turn into ‘fans’ of some ice skater, or sports figure. But when my Backstreet Boys interviewees talk about their fandom, they’re deemed to be weird or even crazy. Can you tell me if in Brazil things are more accepted for adult fans? And how can we, as scholars in academic institutions, perhaps put fandom more on the societal and scientific agenda?

AA: The scenario you presented is very similar here in Brazil, as we in fact are more and more incorporating the term in our everyday vocabulary. In my perspective, the issue here was not only about age, but also about social capital in general. “Fans” tends to be more associated with mass and popular culture - so you can be a “fan” of a famous TV show or internet sensation, whereas those who relish classical music icons or cult movies would call themselves “enthusiasts” or “passionate” (even though all of them basically share the same feelings). Another semantic matter is that sports fans have a different name here, “torcedores” (equivalent to “supporters”), and therefore the association with fans, even academically, is less frequent than in other countries. And while I believe that media is now incorporating the title “fan” and its derivations as a desired, more engaged and committed audience, drifting from the childish/nerdy association, it is still a challenge to us, scholars, to contribute profoundly to that very necessary recognition - considering that, at least in Latin-American countries, we are still fighting for mere academic acceptance. 

Our exchange led me to the inevitable conclusion that no other nationality (and, within this partition, ethnicity, gender or age group) sees an idol the same way. It can be something specific, like the east European love for Brazilian telenovelas, or a global phenomena like Harry Potter or Backstreetboys: local culture will play a crucial part in how we “read” those texts (language-wise and more!). However, it is interesting to point out a fundamental contradiction: we read those texts “locally” while looking for and preferring international objects, since, at the same time, we also want to be part of the “global”. This is an exciting debate that could go on for ages! It will certainly reshape my future research. I thank you deeply for the chance to share all these ideas, examples and theories.

SD: We indeed learn from our exchanges that every culture still has their own take on cultural products. Culture is never neutral in that way. And localness plays such an important role as a lens through which we’re making sense of these phenomena! 

Global Fandom Jamboree Conversation Series: Aianne Amado (Brazil) and Simone Driessen (The Netherlands) (Part One)

AA: Querida Simone,

I was fascinated to learn more about fandoms in the Netherlands and most of all to observe so many similarities between Dutch and Brazilian fan cultures, which I was not expecting. Brazilian and Latin-American historians argue that our devotion for contemporary cultures from hegemonic countries are mainly due to our extremely exploitative colonization. While I do agree that this process had and still has a direct impact over our social political context, which includes culture reception, your statement made me question the actual force of this imprint. For what I know - and please correct me if I’m wrong - the Netherlands were on the colonizer side, having even colonies in Brazil for a brief period. So how come both of those countries ended up with such similar transnational culture behavior? What are your thoughts on that? And I wonder if you could share some historic input about your country that you believe could lead to this affection towards foreign texts.

Furthermore, you raise an intriguing point of view by centering the transnational fandom discussion in the duality of local practices and language in the general scenario of globalization. Those are indeed two defining matters for those fandoms and shape almost every interaction between its members or with the idols themselves. Regarding the language, I wonder how many fans all over the globe have learned a new one because of their beloved text (I certainly am one of them!). But moreover, I found it fascinating how this was also a factor that could bring together Dutch fans from different age groups, which is quite exceptional for me. Here in Brazil, it is almost the opposite: adult fans tend to snub and disdain younger fans, thinking that being associated with a fandom with kids could somehow influence their social capital. Also, the “dubbing x subtitles” dilemma here is much more a question of class: since we unfortunately still have a high percentage of illiterate or semi-literate people in the lower classes, those tend to prefer dubbed content, while those of higher classes prefer subtitles (which can easily be noticed with dubbed movies in on open TV and subtitled on cable).

SD: Dear Aianne, 

 It’s indeed fascinating to see how alike our countries are when it comes to fandom. Yet, for such a vast country as Brazil and such a small, condensed country like the Netherlands, I am not surprised to hear how local languages and practices have great influence on fannish practices. Let me also use that observation to return to your first questions here, how come both Brazil and the Netherlands ended up with such similar transnational culture behavior? As you point out, the Netherlands were indeed one of Brazil’s colonizers (and of some other countries as well). The Dutch set sail for the first time in the 17th century for Brazil, as part of their world exploration. After the Second World War the Dutch even founded a village called ‘HolAmBra’, to express a cooperation between the countries (and Am for America). But I’m not fully equipped to offer a historical overview of this process. The Dutch often laud themselves for their “VOC-mentality”, which comes down to a drift for exploring new places (also conveniently ignoring the consequences of this exploration drift and completely ignoring the colonization process). To bring that to a fandom context (again, forgive me for not diving deep into the critical debate there): this exploration mindset is still present. The Dutch still travel to visit concerts, also because the country is often skipped in ‘global tours’ (how global are they then?). This way they also consider travelling as part of their fandom.  

            I find it interesting how you considered this in your description in light of Brazil’s colonization being a reason for why the Brazilians can be so devoted to pop culture from hegemonic countries. I would love to hear more about this, also considering more and more Brazilian products crossing borders due to streaming services like Netflix and Spotify. That also makes me wonder about what language you’ve learned to participate in a fandom from abroad? It’s interesting that dubbing in Brazil is a matter or question of class: as you point out, the more ‘affluent’ audiences are catered for by offering subtitles, which also is a very visible signifier of being able to potentially follow something in an original language. I never thought of it in this way, as for us, the subtitles have always been there. The only exception I can think of is children’s media: cartoons, or kids movies - they are dubbed, or original Dutch creations. How is that in Brazil? 

AA: I appreciate your explanation about the Netherlands during imperialism. Can you believe that, talking about that with my father, he told me that his great grandfather was Dutch? He came here with his family for one of the colonies in the Northeast. Is there a chance we can be two long-lost-pop-culture-fans-cousins?

The connection you made about the foreign explorer spirit of the Dutch is extremely perspicacious and makes great sense. By reflecting on that, I came to the thought that perhaps it is not only the role in the colonization itself, but also - and maybe more so - the hegemonic place the country falls in. Of course that nations with dominant economies, languages and governments like the US and Japan have many transnational and transcultural fandoms as well, but the impact it has culturally cannot be compared to what happens in countries like ours. Thinking critically about that, we can identify both a consistency and a contradiction: the consistency is that, in order to claim their hegemonic status, those states had to invest extensively in their cultural sectors, aiming to establish their lifestyles as standards of superiority, locally and globally (contrasting with the lack of public investment in arts and entertainment industries, at least here in Brazil). And the contradiction is that the non-hegemonic countries, those who are potentially more susceptible to their cultural texts, are often left out when it comes to promoting those objects - as you pointed out with the “global” tours example. 

SD: I fully agree with that Aianne, again that consistency and contradiction is also what strikes me in researching fans. On the one hand, fans appropriate their fandom (local fan clubs, local meetups and initiatives) or it is appropriated via the industry, e.g., by a translation of a book or a movie. But on the other hand, fans also heavily engage with these original products which seems to affirm the hegemonic status of these super pop-culture powers (e.g., the US, but also indeed Japan). Still, I wonder, Brazil as such a vast country, with so much playing field in the Global South, we rarely see cultural products cross borders. Might language be an element again? We were discussing how that was such a prominent element for the Dutch to be able to engage with cultural goods from across the world. But for the Brazilians this remains to come with a certain sense of position and capital in society if I read your response correctly. How did you experience that yourself? 

AA: Well, I can guarantee you that we are only having this great exchange because I was once a Friends’ fan. I’ve watched the same episodes so many times that it occurred to me that I would probably still remember and understand the scenes if I switched it to the original language, and that is how I learned most of English. Most of my friends also have learned it through TV shows, movies or songs. In my research, I also found Brazilian otakus who became fluent in Japanese without ever having a class on the language. But one thing everyone agrees: classical kids movies and tv shows are always better in the dubbed version!G

Global Fandom: Simone Driessen (The Netherlands)

What does it mean to be a fan in the Netherlands? That is a challenging question to answer: in our global world today, is fandom not inherently a part of globalization? And do local traditions or cultural elements still matter to (young) fans? In this statement and discussion, I look forward to exploring these subjects through the lens of music fandom in the Netherlands. I wish to argue that being a fan in the Netherlands is both a global and local experience. 

The Netherlands is a small country with a population of about 17 million people. Despite a flourishing film/TV- and music industry, much of the media entertainment content consumed is American or British. Additionally, with a high level of internet penetration (about 95%), the Dutch know how to find their way around online. They are avid users of Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that fandom in the Netherlands isn’t tied to its local borders. To better understand fandom in the Netherlands it is key to understand the roles of globalization and language in Dutch culture. Although I will examine these factors more in-depth by using music fandom as an example, drawing on my own research into long-term music fans, let me start with a recent anecdote about Dutch sports fandom. 

            When thinking about ‘fandom in the Netherlands, the first thing that popped up in my mind was orange, the color. In September 2021, the global Formula 1 (F1) Grand Prix took place on the racing track in Dutch beach town Zandvoort. With the Dutch soccer team not performing very well for the past few years, many sports fans found a new favorite pastime in watching F1, particularly with the young successful Dutch driver, Max Verstappen, taking part in the race. Despite the global pandemic, thousands of visitors were allowed on the track. So, the “Orange Army” showed up: dressed in orange – the ‘national’ color of the Netherlands, or with a Dutch flag to show their support for Verstappen. Imagine a sea of orange shirts, orange wigs, orange smoke bombs, etcetera. Now, the Dutch idiom of ‘doe maar normal dan doe je al gek genoeg’ (‘just act normal, that’s already crazy enough’) didn’t apply for the duration of the race! It was a remarkable sight to see this expressive crowd, dressed up in their national color, and attending the race in these pandemic times. Of course, this example resonates with other events in sports fandoms: think of World Championships where people also dress in their country’s colors to support their team. Although this tradition is not unique, it is telling of how fandom reflects localness while simultaneously expressing a sense of being part of ‘the global’ (i.e., a sports competition, or the community of football or racing fans at large).

Dutch Backstreet Boys fans, waiting to enter for the band's concert held in 2015, in one of the bigger music venues in The Netherlands called Ahoy (in the city of Rotterdam)

To dive a little deeper into the complexities of the local and global in Dutch fandom I turn to my own turf: music fandom. My research examines how Dutch music fans become and remain fans of (inter)national musicians. For example, I interviewed (now adult) fans of the Backstreet Boys, who have been fans of the boy band since their early success in the 1990s. When most of these fans became fans, they were in their late childhood or early teens (aged somewhere between 8 and 16). During the Backstreet Boys heydays, the band regularly appeared on Dutch (children’s) TV and was often featured in Dutch pop magazines. Now, one might wonder: how were these young fans able to follow this American, English-speaking and -singing band when the fans’ main language was Dutch? Moreover, why was this American group so successful in a small country like the Netherlands? By answering these questions, I aim to illustrate how Dutch music fandom is influenced by the process of globalization. Yet, also how it shaped by social and cultural practices in the Netherlands. 
            Let me start with clarifying the second question, before returning to the first. While much of the media entertainment broadcasted in the Netherlands is ‘Dutch’ – spoken and produced locally, foreign media content is highly popular too. Particularly media products from the United States and United Kingdom. As media scholar Jaap Kooijman described in his 2013 book ‘Fabricating the Absolute Fake: America in Contemporary Pop Culture’, the Netherlands always had a special connection to the US. Like many Europeans, the Dutch grew up with Disney movies, Hollywood productions, and American music – like that of the Backstreet Boys. This popularity of American pop culture offers a shared point of reference for many people. That was also the case for these very young teens who witnessed the band’s performances in popular (children’s) TV shows or heard them on the radio. In a way this signals the influence of globalization, but perhaps even more so the process of Americanization in the Netherlands.

             Now, to return to that first question I posited, ‘how were these young fans able to follow an international band (or media product) when the fans’ main language was Dutch’? Unlike neighboring country Germany (or nearby country France) where foreign media content is dubbed, in the Netherlands media products are broadcasted in their original language. They do receive subtitles. Through this cultural (and somewhat economic) practice young children learn English at a young age. They also officially already acquire a basic level of English at elementary school. During the interviews I conducted with Dutch fans of the Backstreet Boys fans often spoke about how becoming proficient in English at such a young age mattered greatly to their long-term fandom. They considered it very helpful to understand the band’s lyrics, but this also allowed them to read about the band or watch short interviews on television. Some of the fans who were in their ‘older teens’ in the 1990s (14-15 years old) indicated they for example translated English material from the band’s original website for other fans. One of the interviewees fans even started her own Dutch fan forum, to make information about the band accessible to fellow fans in the Netherlands. Other fans talked about becoming members of global forums, which led to creating friendships across the world. And many of those friendships remained for life: some of these interviewees mentioned meeting up with those international friends (in their now adult years) at one of the Backstreet Boys cruises and concerts abroad. So, this emphasis on language demonstrates how the practice of learning a new language (because of the local practice of not dubbing content too!) can potentially increase one’s fandom experience.

Now, these are just a few, very brief observations about fandom in the Netherlands. These examples offer an insight into how local and global elements play a role in Dutch music fandom. I have briefly reviewed how American pop-culture influences Dutch fandom and how local practices and language are key features in the music fandoms that I studied. I am curious to learn of comparable or contradicting practices elsewhere (e.g., what is the influence of language elsewhere?). Of course, there is much more to discuss and share about Dutch fandom too (e.g., Dutch music fans like to travel because artists don’t always visit the country, how is that for fans in other countries?). Furthermore, I look forward to reviewing the position of Fan Studies in the Netherlands (often part of Media & Communication Studies programs) and compare this to other countries.  

Simone Driessen, Ph.D. is a senior lecturer and researcher in Media and Communication at Erasmus University Rotterdam, in the Netherlands. In her PhD she examined how and why fans remained fans over time and publishedthese findings in multiple journals and books. In addition to exploring why fans continue their fandom, Simone currently researches why fans discontinue their fandom. 

Global Fandom: Aianne Amado (Brazil)

I am not saying that there is a competition for the most enthusiastic fans... but if there were, I am willing to bet Brazil would be at the top of the podium. As a Brazilian fan myself, of course I am not exactly impartial, but you do not have to take my word for that: the main recipient of such passion, the idols, say so themselves — like in this speech from Katy Perry, where she says to her audience in Rio “You guys have fire! You guys have passion; you have something that I have never seen and I've been all over the world and it is totally different here!”; or Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger declaring that “anytime we get to come to a new country for the first time we have no idea what to expect... except this country (...) because everybody tells us it’s gonna be crazy and the fans here are more passionate than just about anywhere in the world”; or even TV’s favorite vampire brothers, Ian Somerhalder and Paul Wesley, saying during the Vampire Attraction convention that “I've never seen or felt or heard more passion and love... it's unbelievable” and “definitely the most enthusiastic fans of any country we've ever visited. It's crazy!”.

Brazil is also responsible for breaking a few records like the world’s biggest Comic Con, with over 280 thousand fans in the last edition, and the largest concert audience ever, for when Rod Stewart played for 4.2 million people in Copacabana’s New Year’s Eve in 1994. Some of the most famous musicians, such as Paul McCartney, Queen, and The Rolling Stones, also have Brazil as home of their largest concert attendance.

And then there is the “please come to Brazil” meme. Probably any pop culture lover with internet access has read hundreds of comments from fans begging their idols to visit us. According to Feldman, the joke started as a genuine claim for more international tours, but soon evolved into a symbol of Brazil’s online engagement, published on the comment section of any post, regardless of the content or even what celebrities like actors or reality tv personalities would do once they got here. Even Beyoncé’s family members were receiving those messages. Youtuber Kaleb Nation facetiously tweeted that “a celeb’s relevance can be accurately measured by how many ‘come to Brazil!!!!!’ tweets they get a day”.

That doesn’t mean that Brazilians forget about national texts. We have our own superstars, with legions of fans that cause just as much of a frenzy; our media texts, notably the telenovelas, with gigantic ratings from Mondays to Saturdays and even stopping the country during their finale; and we should never forget about the soccer fans. Yet, the interest for social capital provided by the international approval remains, and many fandoms try to validate their idols or texts by promoting them abroad — a more recent and remarkable case

was when Anitta’s fans changed their IP to american ones to call a Miami radio and ask for her songs.

As illustrated by the examples above, we can observe that there are evident aspects of Brazilian fan culture that differ from other countries. Jokes and rivalries aside, I do not believe the way we show affection for pop culture is necessarily better or worse (as it also causes many problems, specially concerning fans and idol’s safeties), but it is certainly veryBrazillian. In order to understand what is the Brazilian way to be a fan and how it came to be, we need to look at the big picture, which means to consider social, economic and historical aspects and singularities.

Yet, a review of Fan Studies in Brazil (Amado, 2019) shows that the field is still far from this panorama. In the early 2000, the subject was highly marginalized in the Communication and Media schools, being better received only by those who studied new technologies. Therefore, not only did the first researchers “import” fan theories already circulating in Anglo-Saxon countries, but they also had as main references international authors used by the Digital Communication Studies. This is a problem since the approaches, concepts, and methods present in those are related to the social conditions of the countries that their authors are part of, which are quite different from the dependent economy and high social inequality seen in Brazil. For example, the first Brazilian papers about fans had to focus on online fandoms, which created a pattern still prevalent, even though a significant part of the population does not have internet access or literacy.

Since 2010, the number of studies with fans and fandoms as scientific objects has grown swiftly in Brazil, creating a broad literature with various approaches and from different areas, like Education, Administration and Linguistics. Nonetheless, we still fail to quote ourselves, with international authors prevailing amongst our citations. In addition, another issue identified is that most studies focus only on fandoms from Rio de Janeiro and/or São Paulo, neglecting many groups from a continental country.

Aiming to remedy those liabilities, I examined and traced a social profile of Brazil’s transcultural fans by thematically analysing all 39 theses and dissertations published in the country with them as objects (Amado, 2020). The results show a clear historical, economic, and political impact on fandom activities. Latin-American countries have what Canclini (1997) calls “hybrid cultures”, marked by our highly exploratory colonization process, constantly mixing autochthonous and enslaved traditions with the ways of life of European

colonizers. Our national identities were then shaped by a development strongly based on external influences. Moreover, in 1808, escaping Napoleon’s attack, Portugal’s Royal Family sailed to Brazil, where they lived until 1820 (just two years before our independence), making us the only colony in the continent where the European crown lived. Historians believe that having the Portuguese court in our land defined how we view and value transnational cultures, especially the ones from countries with superior economies. For example, former Minister of Culture Celso Furtado (1984, p. 39) affirms that “the visit of a European theater company to a Brazilian city could be the defining cultural event in the life of an entire generation”. This, tied with the still current lack of public policies that encourage local cultural production, made our population view international cultures as a symbol of social capital (Hollanda, 2010). After the Second War, that focus changed from Europe to the USA, the nation abroad where most transcultural texts in Brazil come from. The second place belongs to Japan, also associated with our historical process, with strong imigration politics encouraging Japanese to live over here (nowadays, Brazil is the country with the largest population of Japanese origin outside of Japan and Otakus are fairly common amongst our subcultures).

Social capital has a fundamental part in Brazilian fan culture. We pride ourselves for (supposedly) being the best in the world, making comparisons and even virtual wars. But the status is disputed inside the fandoms as well: there is an evident hierarchical structure in our fandoms, which can be defined by longevity in the group, knowledge about the text or fanactivities. People at the “bottom” of that structure seek for prestige to climb and, in some cases, a member can become so popular that it gets its own fans.

That hierarchy helps with what I believe is our main distinction: the high level of organization. The fandoms have strict rules (ex: some prohibit the discussion of politics and nudity posts) and divisions of tasks (moderator, manager, director etc.) to create a healthy environment — which is crucial since many fans use fandoms as a “safe space” to be themselves. This system was originally created because of how long it usually took for the texts to be made available here and how the industries would overlook Brazil when planning tours or press conferences. This led to groups organizing themselves into what is better described as a more simplified fordist system. To this day, that structure is used to produce subtitles, scanlations, podcasts, fansites and fan events. Almost all of those are voluntary, free, steady and nearly flawless.

The intensity of our fandoms are reshaping how the whole population consumes media. Phenomena like Big Brother Brasil’s Juliette and comedian Whinderson Nunes proves that a good social media strategy, associated with popular verbiage and humor, can rapidly lead to fame and social relevance. Such strategies have been mimicked by various sectors, most notably by politicians, adding to the worldwide political polarization when creating an extreme rivalry between current president and extreme-rightist Bolsonaro and former president and leftist Lula — each one with an uncritical base, much more like fans than voters.

To study fandom is now a necessity in the Brazilian Social Science field. And, albeit the subject is finally gaining recognition — with dedicated discussion groups in national events and special issues in scientific journals — we are ready to grow from the researches that focuses on isolated fandoms and start theorizing on their place in the current state of our nation.

CITATIONS

Amado, Aianne. (2019, may). Tendências e Lacunas dos Estudos de Fãs no Brasil e no Mundo: uma Revisão do Campo. Congresso de Ciências da Comunicação na Região Nordeste - Intercom Nordeste. Belém, Pará, Brasil, n. 21.

Amado, Aianne. (2020). Please come to Brazil: uma análise crítica dos fãs brasileiros como apreciadores de objetos culturais internacionais. Dissertation, Federal University of Sergipe, São Cristóvão, Sergipe, Brasil. Available: https://ri.ufs.br/handle/riufs/13403

Canclini, Néstor G. (1997). Culturas Híbridas y estratégias comunicacionales. Estudios sobre las Culturas Contemporáneas, 3 (5), pp. 109 - 128.

Furtado, Celso. (1984). Que somos?. In D’Aguiar, Rosa F. (2012). Ensaios sobre cultura e o Ministério da Cultura (pp. 29-42). Rio de Janeiro, RJ: Contraponto, Centro Internacional.

Holanda, Sérgio B. (2010). Raízes do Brasil. São Paulo, SP: Companhia das Letras.

Aianne Amado is a PhD candidate at University of São Paulo and has a Master’s degree from University of Sergipe, both in Communication Science. She researches Pop Culture and Fan Studies toward the lens of the Latin-American approach of Political Economy of Communication and Culture. Is a member of study groups OBSCOM/CEPOS and CETVN.

Global Fandom Jamboree: Enrique Uribe-Jongbloed (Colombia). and Olivier Tchouaffe (Cameroon) (Part Two)

Black Panther: Fandom and the Glocal?

by Tchouaffe Olivier (Cameroon)

Black Panther, a Marvel production enjoyed worldwide success two years ago and including Africa. The success of Black Panther on the African continent was underwritten by the feeling of “locality” to the point that most people did not even know that it was a Marvel and a Hollywood production. Black Panther, however, was suited to the local level, as opposed to a globalized scale. 

This means thinking about what the Glocal means in this context and what does that suggest about how people think of fandom outside of these so-called idealized and rarefied "centers" for this artistic practice?

This is a long-overdue spotlight on the robust community of fans outside of the west and a deeper conversation about how major institutions, such as Hollywood and Marvel superheroes are investing in ecosystems and fan-led organizations outside of the West and the ways we relate to each other and see ourselves in larger social frameworks.

These internal and societal shifts caused these institutions, like many others, to confront which superheroes they had historically shown and why they were selected. Perhaps more importantly, they were also prompted to address which communities had been excluded from these opportunities in the first place. The success of comic superheroes outside of traditional centers generated strong feelings among comic creators and Hollywood to produce works that specifically served these non-white communities to become really strongly rooted in the local community, to the same degree that it has been functioning on a national and international scale

In the case of Black Panther and Africa, moreover, how issues of needs and rights are located and folded into superheroes’ discourses to generate productive opportunities. This kind of politics merges with Black Panther with conversations about the restitution of stolen African art. In the movie, the son of Prince N’Jobu, Killmonger, and nemesis of Black Panther, organizes a heist in a London museum to recover a legendary weapon from Wakanda. If this African country is imaginary, and the stage too, the fiction on the other hand reflected a very real debate on the restitution of works.

Emblematic in this respect, Black Panther, first, demonstrates that flow of circulation of commodities between Africa and the world was never interrupted. Second, How Black Panther is a matrical foundational work embedded in a web of elemental materials and a mythological well and the need to evaluate original work as work in progress. Thus, how chef d’oeuvres are always almost unfinished and incomplete. In practice, how created logic production is usually bifurcated and inprevisible.

Hence, the movie engages the still unresolved issues of the restitution of African works, but also those of the conflicting memory of slavery and colonization, which fall on a much more physical terrain. What Black Panther had somehow anticipated and staged.

Furthermore, Marvel's Black Panther isn't just the political "blockbuster" the public has been waiting for. It is a historic event in intellectual life that goes beyond the American threshold and gives rise to genuine exegesis in the social sciences.

The film responded to the #OscarSoWhite movement that forced Hollywood to realize the near absence of African Americans in its nominations. Moreover, Black Panther provides proof that African-American narratives can generate profits from all audiences and puts an end to a myth in the film industry.

Thus, more than a movie, Black Panther is a vehicle of thought. A true intellectual synthesis. It is no coincidence that a few months before the film's release, the writing of the new adventures of the Black Panther was entrusted to writer Ta-Nehisi Coates, author of the bestseller Between the World and Me. It is no coincidence that activist writer Roxane Gay, author of another bestseller Bad Feminist was also involved in the writing of this comic book. The "Black Panther" phenomenon is well and truly placed under the sign of an era of "Black Lights". Sociologists, historians, and thinkers seize hold of it.

One of the greatest African intellectuals, the Cameroonian philosopher Achille Mbembé analyzed it thus "for those who know how to read between the images, for those who know how to listen to the rhythms and embrace the pulse of the story, the threads are there, manifest, and behind the 'one or the other sequence hovers a thousand shadows and a thousand currents of thought - from Marcus Garvey to Cheikh Anta Diop, from negritude to Afrocentrism, from Afropolitanism to Afrofuturism ”. According to Achille Mbembé, “Black Panther” is the showcase of ideas and efforts developed over decades to get out of “the big night”.

Also, "Black Panther", it is this Africa to which one would not have denied its ancient past and its History (because yes African man has already entered history), this Africa idealized because not colonized. and futuristic, but also and quite simply this possible Africa. And with it, as well as the model of civilization it will draw, a revolution of thought is playing out.

Response by Enrique Uribe-Jongbloed (Colombia)

Here, I would like to bring two things into play, that relate to the way you approach Black Panther. 

On the one hand, we have a set of comic book heroes that were of great importance in Colombia: Kalimán, Fantomas, and Aguilar Solitaria (Lonely Eagle). They were all comics created and developed in Mexico and sold between the mid-1960s and early-1990s in Colombia. We all grew up with those as our comic book heroes, alongside Batman, Superman and Spider-man. Funnily enough, Kalimán is a psychic with Egyptian origins, Fantomas is a French dilettante and masked hero, and Aguila Solitaria is a Native American, but from the US side, and with mostly US located storylines. Their only homebrew hero of recognition was El Santo, the masked wrestler, but he was not as successful in comics in Colombia as the other three. There was even a comic book when Fantomas came to Colombia to deal with some criminals stealing emeralds from an indigenous community near the Venezuelan border.

In 1967, a group of Colombian comic book artists who had worked for the Mexican publishers tried to come up with Colombian masked superheroes and thus El Dago and Makú were created. The former was akin to The Spirit, whereas the latter had a similar storyline to Tarzan. They both only had one appearance in comic books, not gathering enough attention and disappearing from our comic book kiosks after only one outing.

Despite this mishap, Jorge Peña, the creator of Makú, managed to get another White-turned-indigenous hero into national circulation almost uninterrupted between 1980 and 1990 in the Sunday Funnies, under the name Tukano. Again, the story, like Makú, was that of a White kid from Bogotá who ended up being raised by the Tukano tribe, with whom he learned to muster the power of the Jaguar. Most of his adventures were in the jungle setting, against witch doctors, evil indigenous peoples or White poachers.

Only recently did we experience a resurgence of Colombian-made comic books superheroes, starting in 2010 with Zambo Dendé. But that is for another discussion.

The other aspect that relates to your piece on Black Panther is the impact that a movie like Avatar (Cameron, 2010) has had for indigenous peoples in the (South)American continent. It is interesting to see how many indigenous activists have taken Avatar to represent exactly how they feel when facing White, corporate interests in their territories. It is interesting to see a US blockbuster becoming part of the cultural repository of indigenous movements. Much like the restitution issues that arise with African dispossession in Black Panther, Avatar represents the exploitation scenario indigenous people of the Americans feel under. The way it has been interpreted and used in Latin America as a representation of indigenous struggle does resonate in opposition to how the earlier comics presented the heroes as always stemming from the White majority or some other exotic location.

Now, this brief exploration brings us back to Dorfmann and Mattelart’s reading of Donald Duck, and how through these comics, whether willingly or unaware, some Western, capitalist visions of the world were being spread. Much like Tintin, or even our own Kalimán, Fantomas, El Dago, Makú and Tukano, the ideals of the time reproduced the Western, White-savior ideology, presenting the heroes as coming always from the outside, from the place where heroes could “actually come from”. But as seen in Black Panther, for the African case, the appropriation of Avatar by indigenous leaders, and our new Colombian-based comics (see Espectaculares Héroes Colombianos), there is a change in the trend. 

Newer comic book fans in Colombia consume much Marvel/DC, manga and the likes of Asterix, Mortadelo y Filemón, and Tintin, but they also consume more national and regional comics than before. Although we will not be back to the heyday of Mexican comics that we had in the 1970s, there are more items to chose from, and new comic book creators are now able to make their own superhero comics have a local flair.

Felipe Ossa, a famous collector and editor of the Sunday funnies for one of the major national newspapers, has mentioned recently that he sees the last ten years as the boom of Colombian comics production. We will see if that remains the case.  

Responses from Olivier Tchouaffe on Comics and local fandom and Sympathy

This globalized and transnational conversations on comics, in this case Colombia and Cameroon, highlight how comics are indigenized to fulfill a need and to play a role in local politics as we emphasize, particularly, with Black Panther and Avatar. Hence, as always, a second project emerges in the background of these superheroes comics which is the evocation of the avatars of current African or Latin American societies. If the action takes place in Cameroon, it could as well be in France, United States, Mexico or Colombia.  As with Black Panther or Avatar, we always end up looking the problems in the face and confronting family or societal failures. For lack of being able to repair them, at least these films instill as much as possible the possible beginnings of reflection or even debate.

In addition, how this also complicated the dichotomy between the global and the local and the narratives how the global as the site of progress while the local is mired in backwardness.  

Consequently, these comics are always powerful, especially, when they land at an opportune moment in the backdrop of national conflicts and issues of social justice that need urgent resolution. Hence, how comics, by definition, is the power to transcend cultural context and participating in giving a voice and a presence to the local fans striving to make themselves heard. 

 In doing so, the knowledge local fans deal with a much more complicated reality and the necessary epistemological rupture from the ways that they might be known or seen as simply infantilized receptacles of foreign media and controlled through soulless consumption of fetichized commodities and probably dupes of the global cultural industry. 

This involves deconstructing the stereotypes embedded in the idea that local fans are not creative but the receptacle of creativity and the consenting spectators of images produced by others. 

Thus, the necessity to interrogate images produced for local fans and how these images become normative while totaling advancing the knowledge that local fans are more than capable to have their own subjective experiences and psychological and emotional maturation to become responsible adults and citizens moving away from infantile narcissism. Thus, products of both scientific and psychological processes embedded in productive living and logics of contribution.

This calls for new ways to complicate notions of sympathy and moral judgement. In practice, how the reception of these comics is not simply a matter of emotion, gut instinct or pleasure but the imaginative power of projection to expand our inner circle into the richness of a diverse multicultural world. It goes at the heart of universal cosmopolitan enlightenment values and engagement with urgent issues in the world such as social justice informing on local resources, strength and resilience. How we commit to these values and how we can get there.

As a consequence, the comics superheroes today are universal emblematic of freedom, meritocracy and self-reliance and tales of empowerment that can no longer be overlooked and how the status quo is constantly being challenged in countries receiving these cultural constructs.  This is a testimony to what Henri Bergson called the “Élan Vital “which represents the creative force within an organism that is responsible for growth, change, and necessary or desirable adaptations. In ways, these comics authors are equally greatly influenced by Henri Bergson and his term élan vital as they seek to make such universal harmonies, and this urge for growth and renewal, visible in their work.

Global Fandom Jamboree Conversations: Enrique Uribe-Jongbloed (Colombia) and Tchouaffe Olivier (Cameroon) (Part One)

Conversations on Comics: On Cultural Effraction and the Feedback Loop

by Tchouaffe Olivier (Cameroon)

The things I find remarkable about the comics is how they entered our consciousness by effraction. Indeed, we were not the intended original audience but happened to be an audience by effraction. Many of these comics, such as Blek Le Roc and Lucky Luke, were themselves examples of idiosyncratic cultural borrowing responding to the American’s invasion of films and comics in Europe and are, consequently, themselves derivative of the Hollywood Western and the myth of manifest destiny and the last frontier embedded in the mythology of the west and all the cultural bagages we have now come to recognize. Comics like Tintin, likewise, emanates from a cultural Belgian milieu that was very catholic, reactionary and colonialist. 

Indeed, can we completely free Tintin from its anchoring in the past century? The first album "Tintin in the land of the Soviets" was indeed responsible for portraying the worst mistakes of the Soviet Union. The controversies over its racism and colonialism arise when it is a question of republishing "Tintin in the Congo". Finally, how can we fail to notice the absence of a female character with the exception of the Castafiore?

First, the demonstration that what is considered culturally appropriate or politically correct change overtime. Second, without parents, without a past other than his tribulations, without a girlfriend or boyfriend, globally without attachment and without accountability to anyone, without sex and almost without a face: Tintin is an autonomous individual, scientifically skilled with an agency of his own. Thus, it is Tintin’s abstraction that makes up his modernity and legitimacy as an icon of freedom, self-reliance and technological ingenuity that appeal with an audience dealing with a world that is becoming more complex by the days.

Thus, Tintin still seems so alive in the 21st century. Like a character of the present, with a contemporary reading that forgets its anachronism.

What is spectacular, however, it is how these comics have managed to spread all over the world, as a form of subaltern culture, and came back to Hollywood’s mainstream moviemaking.

It is clear that Steven Spielberg who made a movie about Hergé’s Tintin (2011) and realistically followed Herge’s visual genius and erudition with his own visual imagination and performance capture prowess with the ambition to rival with movies such as James Cameron’s Avatar. However, rather than Hollywoodized it, Spielberg keeps the spirit of Tintin to become the first to globalized Tintin in films, rather, that a European filmmaker. Spielberg took a big chance on a comic that was pretty much unknown in the United States.

In addition, Spielberg was also inspired, with Georges Lucas, by Hugo Pratt’s Colto Maltese for Indiana Jones.[1]

Furthermore, as with the Hong Kong Martial Art films, the Samurai movies of Akira Kurosawa and the Western Spaghetti of Sergio Leone also make their ways back into Hollywood and are openly claimed by movie directors, such as, Quentin Tarantino.

What becomes important here, however, is that the nature of the narrative itself changes. There is no longer such as thing as a progression to the west with a beginning, middle and the end to the last frontier but a narrative of revelation bounded with seriality which means that we do not even need to know how the story started, we are embarked into a moving train and its spirit of adventure.

Thus, narratives unfold less according to a classical logic of development of sequences than of rampant compilation and short-circuits of technological challenges. The speed of the linking of the actions, their extreme compression, thus prevents the emergence of the feeling of a time that disappears to be replace by the magic on the page and the magic of technologies on the screens. Taken together, the anticipation of an idealized forms of futuristic technologies.

In all, how personal taste and opinions preempts official critics by mobilizing some forms of universal mythologies.Hence, for example, when Elon Musk unveiled the design of his new “Starship” lunar rocket, it took exactly the shape of the Tintin one in “Objectif Lune”, minus the red and white checkerboard! A tribute to the Hergé reporter claimed by the boss of Space X. But why did the American Elon Musk take inspiration from the Belgian designer rather than from Star Wars ships?

As with all his toys, such as, helicopter, plane, rocket, submarine, outboard boat, and many vehicles, Tintin has always seized, as if by magic and without a license, all the toys of technical progress. In fact, he walked on the moon as early as 1953, sixteen years before Neil Armstrong! He is a character of speed and action, of perpetual motion. He is only defined by his actions, and his interventions are always those that move the adventure forward, where the secondary characters delay the pace. Between a Captain Haddock who swears by a trillion thousand ports and a frankly tough professor Tournesol.

This is all because Tintin is both a vehicle of universal and timeless identification, but also a figure of pure freedom and self-reliance, as if spared by reality. An over-child myth that speaks to all generations of readers including space entrepreneur Elon Musk! After the "Secret of the Unicorn", the duo Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson are reforming for an adaptation of the Temple of the Sun, announced for 2021.

Taken together, in a world that is getting hyperconnected but precarious, in many parts, these figures become the vector of a moral economy driven by technological creativity.

Response by Enrique Uribe-Jongbloed (Colombia)

It is funny that you bring up Tintin. When I was a kid in a private catholic school in Bogotá, Colombia, we were invited once a month to a “slideshow”. One of the priests at the school, an old Frenchman of the Assumptionist order, would present to us a series of Tintin slides in French, which he would then translate and act out in his accented Spanish. It was fun to hear him shout out mild curses when taking on the role of Captain Haddock. Although there were other slides in the slideshow, mostly catholic stories, we were always thrilled to get Tintin. There was adventure and excitement, and particularly for an all-boys catholic school, a role model which was, as you described, uninterested in women, ready for adventure, and with no other commitments beyond his dog, Milú.

Tintin was also part of the Sunday Funnies, a whole page on the back, and those whose families could afford it, would try to get the comic books at Libreria Francesa (French Bookstore). They were very expensive, maybe only to be expected as a lavish Christmas or birthday gift. We used to meet at the homes of those friends who possessed the Tintin books and proceed to binge-read them. They were so precious at the time, that getting a friend of you to lend on of them to you, was a proof of friendship and trust.

Of course, looking through an adult critical lens, it strikes me how those comic books always showed us Western and Eurocentric views as ideal. In that sense, it was exactly like our school curriculum and basically most media output: Westernized to the core. If they were in anyway counterhegemonic in relation to US comic book production, they remained very hegemonic from our perspective.

Obviously, despite the criticism that I might levy upon Tintin, it still holds a very important place in my heart. The only Latin American comic strip that might get close to evoking such fond memories of my childhood would be Condorito, the Chilean character, which my grandfather used to buy for me at the local Kiosk, and which is, by and large, the most famous comic book figure in the country, at least for those in my generation.

Thus, when the Tintin film came out it was almost a requirement to go watch it, more because of nostalgia than anything else. And although it was sufficiently entertaining, it was certainly not the same as remembering the old priest making up watered-down vocabulary for every “@*-!!!” uttered.

[1] Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson played the Dupond and Dupont, in a short film, to greet visitors to the Angoulême festival and present the filming of the adaptation of "Secret of the Unicorn", on January 29, 2009