LINK 2 – THE ARCHITECTURE OF AN EMOJI STORY

In week six, we were tasked with exploring the ‘breakout of the visual’. Gunther Kress, the Australian semiotician, laid our foundation by suggesting that visual elements are more than simple decorative pieces but rather true modes of representation and meaning that influence symbolic messaging (Kress, 2005). So much so, that these visually discernible features could define what we understand as a type of new contemporary literacy.

What then do we make of those little emotion icons we know as emojis? What (grammatical? written?) conventions are we to use if we were to create a narrative using only emojis? Jay David Bolter, in his book The Breakout of the Visual asserts that picture writing simply lacks narrative power; that a visual plainly means too much rather than too little (Bolter, 2001). As a result, it can become increasingly difficult to write a narrative using visuals alone – it’s easy to convolute the communication of character relationships and development, the sequencing of plot points, the passage of time, or the overall narrative flow.

Consequently, it proved interesting to peruse my colleagues’ emoji stories and analyze the way in which they decided to construct the narrative form. Ultimately, I felt that Judy Tai’s transcription of Ratatouille held a multitude of similarities with respect to the architecture of an emoji story in comparison to my arrangement of A Life on Our Planet: My Witness Statement and Vision for the Future. While some participants chose the classic horizontal familiarity that comes from reading books, many others like Judy and myself, chose a vertical approach to projecting some approximation of narrative continuity. Among other blog posts, the most frequently mentioned factor was the difficulty in transcribing singular words into emojis; rather, authors needed to conceptualize a group of words or meanings and represent it with a chosen emoji image. Oftentimes, even this strategy proved difficult and some people had to simply revert to searching to images that offered readers expansive interpretations.

Carlo’s story on the left, Judy’s story on the right

The first and perhaps most obvious link, was both Judy and I took a vertical arrangement approach to conveying the central notions of our stories. It seems both Judy and I instinctively appealed to some semblance of linearity and order, just as the traditional written commands readers to follow a strict order of comprehension (Kress, 2005), when we began our synopsis’ with a signal of the medium, and a corresponding title. When comparing this manner of structure with other colleagues, it became evident that this approach was the most common manifestation of architecture with respect to an emoji story. As far as I am aware, there are no formal conventions on how to construct a narrative consisting of solely visual aspects, like emojis. Therefore, it seems interesting to me that the default pattern of assembly was through vertical methodologies; perhaps more fascinating is the deep contrast between content and form in writing with visuals. Although there are many similarities between both our emoji stories, it seems like Judy’s images are a lot more spaced out than mine. In comparing them, I feel like my story is attempting to jam a lot more information into each line, while Judy is more delicate with the chose information. Despite these types of electronic hieroglyphs representing an extremely new medium of communication in human history, our automatic reaction was to revert to the style of the scroll. 

Comparatively, only a few participants in the Emoji story task utilized a horizontal approach to arranging their synopsis’. For example, Anne Emberline’s story took a linear form, similar to that of traditional writing structures. Anne was unique in that she opted to relay her story using image after image, attempting to build meaning using the fundamental processes of reading and writing we currently use. Interestingly, one of the things I commented on Anne’s posting was that although I totally comprehended what her narrative meant, I had no idea what exactly was the movie, game, book, or show. Consequently, this put Kress’ assertion of “that which I can depict, I depict” (Kress, 2005). at odds with our interpretations as I have only negotiated an insubstantial meaning specific to me, while others could infer something completely different, or alternatively, nothing at all. 

Anne’s Emoji Story

What exactly prompts this style of organization? Why was it that most used line breaks to separate ideas, while others simply rattled off emoji after emoji with the hopes of creating meaning. I believe there is something to be said about our semiotic abilities to discern direction and instruction from punctuation. Writing is a marriage of words and symbolic markings, both of which direct meaning making within our minds as we decipher information through written words. With respect to the emoji stories, it is my interpretation that each line break indicated a new idea, new sentence, or new concept. I had a more difficult time deciphering Anne’s story than I did Judy’s.

Finally, Judy makes a compelling argument regarding the addition of images to text (in the form of graphic novels) becoming a driving factor for the increased interest levels of young readers. She posits an interesting connection between our human ability to read emotion and facial expressions as a means of inferring deeper about a particular story. While I agree with her assertions, I can’t help but think of some of the defining principles of Jean Piaget’s cognitive development model – I believe that at a certain point, our human minds crave a new challenge as they can formally operate within deeper texts; the image/word relationship begins to become commonplace. Moreover, our processing of both text and image pertains strictly to the visual sense. While Bolter makes this word/image relationship case with respect to internet models of publication, I can foresee a bit of a harkening back to the age of orality, where some of our future texts will be truly multi-modal; demanding an aural, visual, tactile, and perhaps even our gustatory or olfactory senses.

 

Bolter, J.D. (2001). Writing Space: Computers, hypertext, and the remediation of print. Mahway, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Kress (2005). Gains and losses: New forms of texts, knowledge, and learningComputers and Composition, Vol. 2(1), 5-22

LINK 1 – GOLDEN RECORD CURATION: SELECTION CRITERIA

Among the abundance of compelling tasks we were meant to complete throughout ETEC540, there remains a small collection that stood out as most intriguing; one being the Voyager Golden Record and the process of curating a sample of 10 tracks. As simple as this venture sounds, it challenges participants to address, as Abby Smith Rumsey suggests, what we afford to lose?.

It is a challenging question, because as Smith Rumsey asserts, it’s difficult to determine what has future value particularly due to our ineptitude with respect to predicting what contexts or events could eventually lend meaning. It’s not feasible to truly know the value of anything until far in the future when certain events and contexts provide meaning to seemingly ‘useless’ artifacts (Smith Rumsey, 2017). It then follows to reason that the best way we can form present value at least, in the context of potentially submitting ten songs from earth to our extraterrestrial brothers and sisters is to formulate some semblance of criteria to follow.

In foraging through my colleagues’ webspaces, I attempted to explore the criteria that others used to ascertain what tracks best belonged on their curated Golden Record. The network analytics I did on the Golden Record Curation Task revealed that Marwa and I chose 70% of the same songs, while Sarah H and I shared only 20% of the same songs. Thus, I decided to investigate the criteria they used for content selection.

Firstly, let’s review the selection criteria I adopted. I chose to use a specific tenet from Abby Smith Rumsey’s article Why Digitize as the foundation of my criteria:

Creation of a ‘virtual collection” through the flexible integration and synthesis of a variety of formats, or of related materials scattered among many locations (Smith, 1999).

In essence, I creatively applied Smith Rumsey’s principles for valuable digital captures to the Golden Record curation exercise. It’s worth noting that this record is meant for potential alien life elsewhere in our universe. Thus, I intentionally attempted to eliminate any specific cultural, ethnic, or social significance to any music included partly due to the fact that if any intelligent life were to stumble upon these sounds, they would presumably be incognizant to those underlying factors. It then follows that the basis of my selection was informed by a synthesis and variety of formats (or genres), and a diversity of locations on planet earth.

Comparatively, Marwa used an analogous barometer for curating her chosen ten, however, she chose to include a gender metric to aid in selection. With this metric, it seems we may be at risk of entering the territory of equality of outcome. While I agree with her assertion that there is an overrepresentation of classical music and the entirety of the record is constrained to certain tonal and historical periods, I don’t entirely understand how the idea of ‘conforming to male gender-norms and conventions’ play into the overall choices. What does this mean exactly? Does this pertain more towards the depiction of males within these songs? Or is it more generally about the over representation of males as the artists of these pieces? Are there any suitable alternatives to these selections? How are we to counteract this? – Are we to travel down to Congo to educate the Mbuti of the Ituri Rainforest about gender normativity? Mozart is one of the most prolific and celebrated classical composers in human history, but I’m not sure how much of that he owes to his gender rather than his competence in a certain field. How do we reconcile the idea of the Golden Record conforming to these sorts of conventions with the inclusion of Chuck Berry as the only African American rock n’ roll artist? Further, the Golden Record seems awfully ableist by including only one blind artist! 

It simply seems to me, that if we are going to include metrics pertaining to gender or an artist’s/composer’s individual characteristics, the slope continues to become very slippery with respect to having to include a number of other related individual metrics.

Ultimately, the fact is that the Voyager Golden Record was launched in 1977 and perhaps it’s reasonable to estimate they may not have been as perceptive or sensitive to these types of conventions as we are in 2021. Moreover, and perhaps most importantly, I’m not entirely sure that the intelligent extraterrestrial life forms that may happen upon our curated Golden Record’s will be overtly aware or remotely conscious of the gender-norms we seem to have developed on planet earth. Regardless, it serves as an interesting distinction because both Marwa and I selected 70% of the same songs, proving that the data network does not illustrate the paradigm of arriving at the same destination despite taking different pathways .

In contrast, Sarah’s determining criterion followed a slightly different vein of thought. She chose to select songs based on 1) a representation of diverse cultures on earth, 2) a variety of styles inclusive of instruments and lyrics, and 3) encapsulating ‘joyful life’ on Earth in contrast to the ‘gloom’ of the current pandemic. Again, we see a tertiary metric that involves extra-musical factors. This is interesting to note because all three of us (Marwa, Carlo, and Sarah) all had two common criteria: diversity in location, and variety of style but varied in a third metric. With respect to epitomizing songs as joyful, it’s difficult to discern how to represent joyfulness in the first place. To what degree is the Navajo Night Chant joyful? Tough to say. Try listening to the Men’s House Song on repeat for more than five minutes and let’s have a conversation about how joyful we feel! Interestingly, El Cascabel, the Mexican mariachi style typically played at joyous and celebratory occasions, did not make the cut!

It certainly was difficult not to inject personally subjective measurements into the curation of 10 tracks from an incredibly diverse Golden Record. I think it’s important to remember the purpose of the Golden Record, and to entertain the idea of extraterrestrial life as completely void of any understanding of earthly planetary customs and conventions in direct relation to our subjective experiences. Thus, a strict focus on the musical aspects and the diversity of locations those songs represent seem to yield the most efficient results in terms of degrees of connectivity in curation.

 

Smith Rumsey, A. (1999, February). Why Digitize? Retrieved June 15, 2019, from Council on Library and Information Resources: https://www.clir.org/pubs/reports/pub80-smith/pub80-2/

Smith, Rumsey, A. (2017) Digital Memory: What Can We Afford to Lose

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