In the past I’ve addressed certain topics or themes that were discussed by others in conferences. I’m not going to do that here, in the sense that I’d choose a particular topic and expand upon it. I am, however, going to address all kinds of things that I found noteworthy and interesting at a conference that I attended abroad not long ago. I was going to do this ASAP, as I usually do, but I got carried away by work, on top of more work. Anyway, I’ll do this in chronological order, starting from day one, then day two and then finally day three.
In day one, David Karlander addressed nothingness, or, I guess, the absence of whatever it is that is absent, the trick being that, the way I’d put it, it’s hard to know what’s missing, you know, because it’s missing and you can’t know it’s missing if and/or when it’s missing. How to put it more clearly? Well, I’d say I’ve encountered this in my own research as well. Think of empty walls. Sure, sure, okay, they are only as empty as one thinks they are. Indoors, for example, have a habit of having white walls. Yes, yes, there are walls that are of other colors as well, but at least in the Finnish context white is the default wall color indoors, followed by some very light colors. It’s not even about the color as such as we might as well replace the default color by something more striking, for example, orange. The point is that we are very used to having empty walls, one color, typically something that’s not considered offensive to one’s eyes. Pay attention to this next time you enter a public building. Corridors, offices and classrooms have a tendency of being rather bare bones, if you will. They tend to have walls that are blank, white or some shade of greige, supplemented by an array of equally unremarkable furniture. Offices may have some personality to them, but that’s typically something that matches the character of the furniture, for example something framed, a photo or a diploma. What’s messy is a pile of books and papers, if that. In many cases, for example at my university, the spaces used, the various corridors, offices and classrooms, are not actually the property of the university, but the property of another entity, owned in part by the university (incidentally a topic that was discussed at lunch at the conference). That means that the tenant, the university, must adhere to certain policies and practices, ones that keep the walls empty. I believe that with some of the buildings there’s this thing that they must also adhere to some policies on maintaining their architectural integrity. This means that everything must be exactly as some architect or designer once envisioned the buildings to be like. I’m not kidding with this. A janitor, for the lack of a fancier title, once told me that this stuff goes as far as having the right type of light fixtures and level of lighting, which, can actually be rather contradictory with the safe use of such spaces. Simply put, it can end up being next level fussy, just because someone thinks it makes sense to adhere to the aesthetic appeal of indoor lighting in the early 1900s when they didn’t have proper lighting to begin with.
Anyway, back to the presentation, which, I think, went well. He got some flak afterwards for presenting something as nothing, which, well, is probably something that’s hard to address or counter in that moment. In other words, some, I can’t remember who, pointed out that it’s actually something that’s there, not nothing. So, yes, correct, the empty walls, or surfaces to be more general here, are indeed something. However, oddly enough, no matter how they are something, say, white walls with, perhaps, a dent or some faint discoloring here or there, they appear as if nothing, nothing worth paying attention to in any case. The presentation included certain bits on how, for example, graffiti is painted over, at times, with a contrasting color, which then, rather obviously stands out from the wall itself, because, well, it’s of(f) color. Here it’s worth adding that it makes no difference to the observer whether something specific, such as some graffiti, was painted over in certain color that does not match the color of the surrounding wall or not. What if someone paints over a portion of wall, just for the sake of it? Do we pay attention to some generic rectangular area of a concrete wall painted in some dull color that may or may not stand out from the totality of the wall? Should we? Should we not? It’s something, yet at the same time nothing. Maybe it was something (specific), but now nothing (in contrast). Maybe it never was something (specific), but now appears as something (in contrast). This may not make much sense to dwell over, yet, if you ask me, it makes a lot of sense to address. This is, at least in part, why I prefer to approach landscape as having to do with discourse. Not that they aren’t important, but for this reason I’m not as much interested in individual signs, presenting them and addressing their appearance. I’m rather interested why it is that, for example, something comes to appear as it does. Simply put, I’m not interested in presenting photographic evidence of walls of certain color but rather examining why it is that they are the way they are and why people are up in arms if they are not. Of course this does not apply only to empty walls but also to the signs that people wish to analyze instead of the absence of signs. I’m not interested in presenting photographic evidence of signs, how they appear to us, i.e., what they look like, but in why it is that they are the way they are and how they came to be how they are and where they are. Anyway, to recap this one, it may be that the audience didn’t really get or appreciate what Karlander was after, but I think he struck oil. Ironically, perhaps they considered his presentation on nothing as nothing. Then again, I might be wrong about the audience as next to nothing was said.
Also in day one, in the parallel sessions, Durk Gorter brought up dynamic displays. As that could mean a lot of things, I mean the word dynamic could be used in whatever context, for the buzz value of it, what was, and to be honest still is, at stake is how more and more signs, or rather, let’s call them frames of display (because of signs can be linguistic/semiotic signs, but what we mean here is the actual factual … things), are not static, this or that. In simple terms, ignoring my word salad, Gorter pushed the audience to pay more attention to digital displays because they are becoming more and more common. He addressed how they are used in a public transportation system in the city of Donostia-San Sebastian. I’ve never been there, but it’s sort of how it is here as well, on the local traffic buses. Not all of them have them, but some of the newer ones have digital displays that run bits of information bearing relevance to the bus routes, but also news stories and advertising. To those living in the capital region, at least the trains running to the airport have digital displays, albeit I don’t think they run news or advertising on them.
To situate these in landscapes, as typically understood as the great outdoors (albeit it’s not strictly speaking limited to it … think of large shopping centers, for example), it is not uncommon here to run into these. I know the location of a number of large billboard sized digital displays in Turku. I’d say that they are hard to miss when you come across them. While they do have the sheer size of a billboard that makes them stand out, yes, it’s rather the flicker of the screen, the changing canvas that draws your attention. You can do a lot with a digital display, say, run a video. However, just changing what is presented, going from one display to another in the same frame, is likely to make you pay attention to it. While I was living in Ireland, almost a decade ago, they had something similar, dynamic but not digital. There was this billboard on the way to the closest grocery store. It looked just like any billboard, you know, huge, but as passing it took a while, the display changed. It had blades, not unlike vertical window blinds, that rotate, making it possible to have more than one display in the same frame. Apparently this is called a rotating billboard or, if incorporating three sides (think of stacking Toblerones next to one another and then rotating them to alter the overall message), a Trivision. Anyway, digital displays are, of course, far more dynamic than such old school dynamic displays. The thing here is, as explained by Gorter, that while it is likely that what is on display is on a loop, just like with a Trivision, digital displays have infitite potential, limited only by code. At the same time, while they could be presenting anything, they also might not. Just switch it off and the frame of display is rendered into a blank frame, becoming nothing, or so to speak.
Considering it’s Gorter who has done most work on these and presented on them, it must been him who pushed me to explicitly address this in my published work. So, kudos to him for pushing me to think about it. I don’t know if I addressed it sufficiently as it didn’t find it particularly problematic. However, it’s something that I might address more in the future. I happen to have a sweet spot for attempting to overcome obstacles, for coming up solutions to things rather than doing just more of the same. It’s also something that, I think, one has to address in the future. There’s bound to be more and more of digital displays out there in the future. We may well also end up in a situation where people view the same scene differently, not because their way of seeing, i.e., how they are constituted, is different, but because the scene will be mediated by technology, such as Augmented Reality (AR). To give you a concrete example, think of wearing glasses (albeit, I know, it seems a bit clunky … glasses) that render text on the sites of display. It could be in this or that language, depending on the settings. Take off the glasses and the frame of display is blank. We can take this to the next level by removing the need of physical frames of display, having the technology render it for us in whatever way is preferred. This way one doesn’t even need to maintain the frames of display. I think it’s also worth mentioning that as neat and handy as that may sound, it sort of goes without saying that it will end up used for commercial purposes as well, for example to set up advertisements all over the landscape, tailored just for you, based on some profile of you, probably created by you, unless, well, you are willing to pay (enough) not to see the them in the AR. This way, in a sense, even nothing, or, to be more accurate, the perception of nothing, can well be converted into something, in terms of money.
Also in day one, Dejan Ivković presented on his collaborative work on meaning making on the spot, how it is that people come to encounter the landscape. What I found particularly interesting and perhaps more important is the emphasis on raising awareness, how people should pay more attention to the elements in the landscape, whatever they may be. For me, awareness of the key issue, how it is that landscape operates as constructing certain a(n)estheticized reality, one in which we happily, or should I say with pleasure, ignore the particulars in favor of a totality irreducible to its particulars, is of high importance. Raising awareness may be of little interest in research as it doesn’t lead to a steady flow of articles, more of the same, here, there, everywhere. Taking into account the key issue, the numbing quality of it, should really be the goal. At least the way I understand landscape operating (as an abstract machine), it makes no actual difference to present, one article after another, findings on this or that landscape, unless the goal is to actually address the issue itself. Ignorance of how it works only feeds into it all, likely even reinforcing it. Anyway, getting back on track here, back to the topic, I found the presentation worth the attention as the emphasis is put on the spatial practice and paying attention to one’s surroundings, how it is that one comes to encounter particulars (or not) in the landscape. Simply put, the value added here is the explicit emphasis on active participation, one’s role in everyday life, as opposed to being a mere receptor of an irreducible totality that operates, as if tailored as such, to cater for your desires, whatever they may be. Phenomenology may not be my thing, but I’m not hostile to it, far from it as it pertains to how it is that people come to experience the world. At least you’d think that’d be of particular interest to people, no matter how against reason that may go according to the hardcore objectivists.
Skipping ahead quite a bit in day one, Andre Joseph Theng presented on, how would I summarize it, how coffee shops are branded, coming across as authentic or inauthentic. I might be misrepresenting this, as it’s been a while in between, but if I understood correctly, in this context, we can speak of coffee of being first, second or third wave. The first wave has to do with popular coffee, say, erm., what comes to my mind is something like that coffee and donuts chain named after its founder, a hockey player. We could think of something else here as well, but having spent a good deal of time in Canada, I think that’s a good example, something that came to my mind first. It’s a no frills, get some coffee, the usual if you will, type of a thing, accompanied by an assortment of donuts. It’s the sort of place that I think people go to get their coffee fix, just as you do by having some filter coffee at home in Finland. So, with the first wave, it’s about coffee, some coffee, just some coffee. It’s not about getting great coffee. It can be great coffee, but it just typically isn’t and I reckon it’s not even trying to be, nor is it advertised as such. At least I’m under no impression that I’m buying myself some great experience when I buy a brick of filter coffee and a bunch of filters for my coffee machine. It just gets the job done and isn’t half bad. That’s, of course, not to say that the brands don’t try to sell it as something great, better for the environment and/or the farmers, and the like, at least in comparison to the other brands and companies. The second wave then, to my understanding, is marked by going against the first wave, or at least that’s the origin of it. Here the first thing that comes to my mind is that originally small coffee roastery originating in the Pacific Northwest, the one that turned into a major chain. It offers better quality than the first wave, offering a wider variety of coffee, but, I guess, is as corporate and has turned as homogeneous as the first wave, even if it is marked by espresso, rather than just … coffee. I remember walking into a building through its central entrance, shared by, on the left hand side, the aforementioned second wave coffee shop, and, on the right hand side, the aforementioned first wave coffee shop. They were remarkably similar in terms of their … well … homogeneous appearance. It’s not that they mimic one another, I mean hardly, but that you could easily walk into yet another store of either company and not really know the difference. My impression was that the one on the left had a more young, educated and professional type of clientele, people after some espresso, whereas the one on the right had a more middle-aged, blue collar type of clientele, people after some coffee. Anyway, moving on, as you might guess, the third wave, as discussed by Theng, is then marked by going against the second wave, for having turned into more of the same, you know, having become as homogeneous and bland as the first wave. I’m more familiar with beer, so I’ll try to explain it that way instead. With beer, the trend was to counter the big brewers, or macro brewers. It’s not just about being a micro brewery, something small. That’s just a matter of scale. It’s rather about the craft of it, doing it in small batches, quality over quantity, getting at the essence of it, getting the best out of the ingredients and, at times, limiting the brew in certain ways, for example by using only a single hop variety. As I pointed out, micro vs. macro is not a great way to put it because some of the so called micro breweries are now owned by the macro brewers or some never heard of investment company that hopes to make it big with the brewery. In this sense craft is a better label for what in the beer world is third wave. Getting back to Theng’s presentation, it was certainly interesting that someone is looking into the notion of indie and being local, at least supposedly that is, in combination with consumption and commodification, as evident in the landscape.
I’m going off the script here, mixing up the time line, but that’s because I don’t have as much to say about each of the presentations. Jeffrey Kallen brought up something not unlike what Theng presented on, albeit more clearly on the commodified side of things than on the indie side of things. He discussed the ever so obvious, albeit actually quite varied ‘Irish Pub’, the one that appear outside Ireland in various shapes and forms. In summary, to put it in words he didn’t use, we can think of the ‘Irish Pub’ as both a simulation and a simulacrum, a copy and a copy of a copy, simulating what you find in Ireland, or, alternatively, not bothering to do that but instead copying what we think of as an Irish Pub and happily mixing it with something that we wouldn’t associate with it. For example, in Turku we used to have an ‘Irish Pub’, often staffed by expats but not by Irish nationals, at least that I can remember. It had all the usual elements, namely the carpentry that you’d expect, as well as plenty of signs containing slogans by Irish brewers. At the same time, if my memory serves me, it was never strictly speaking limited to such and it happily mixed with all kinds of things, foreign and local. This was also the case in the ‘Irish Pub’ that I happened to come across in Bern, Switzerland. They weren’t too fussy about having signs featuring British brewers alongside all things Irish. Bernardino Tavares made a related point, albeit pertaining more to the expected authenticity. If I remember correctly, he pointed out how people come to expect something to be this or that, for example, as presented, Cape Verdean métissage, the irony being that, apparently, some customers weren’t satisfied with a café/restaurant as it wasn’t authentically mixed, or so to speak. In other words, some people had a view in which the establishment was to have certain appeal to it, having certain clientele, served by certain staff, not just anyone, being served by just anyone, the irony being that the place is supposed to embrace the notion of being mixed, in all kinds of ways, rather than revolving around a distinct identity. As a polar opposite, Deirdre Dunlevy presented on how language is used to mark community identity in Belfast. No irony here though.
I was going to cover everything in one essay but this already dragged on long enough, so I’ll do this in parts instead. This is the recap for day one. I didn’t cover everyone’s presentation here, but that’s because I just couldn’t be in two places at the same time, it makes little sense to address the opening speeches, as interesting as they were, and me having little to contribute on the topics discussed by a number of other presenters. Perhaps I can link some of them in the following recaps on days two and three, whenever I find the time to write on those. Anyway, we’ll see. There were some interesting presentations during those days as well, so I hope to manage to address them sooner than later.