Wednesday, January 18, 2012
I know, I know
Sure, you've all been waiting, breathlessly in some cases, for a new post. This could count. It's new. It's a post. You're reading it. But it's lacking, isn't it. It's truncated. It's direct. You're not sure if it's written for you, to you, or what. There will have to be some sorting out then to determine if this counts. So stay tuned. Or tune in. Whichever works for you. (to be continued)
Monday, December 5, 2011
ABC News 'Made in America' series
There are a lot of things you can call the feature news components on ABC World News Tonight with Diane Sawyer.
http://abcnews.go.com/WN/MadeInAmerica/
- News you can use
- Service journalism
- Shooting fish in a barrel
The lede is not one of them. Though that does not stop the team at the network’s 2nd place evening newscast from positioning their manufactured news series as the top story of the evening, as they do from time to time with their segment, Made in America.
Starting with an obvious premise, that the American economy has evolved from a manufacturing economy, while failing to note where the American economy has moved to, this series scratches American’s nationalist itch. It finds college students with new dorm room stuff, none of which is made domestically. It notes families who own very little that’s made at home. It’s gotten people passing through New York’s Grand Central Station to strip down in order to find a US label on a pair of undies.
But it doesn’t take the time to do more for the audience at home than remind us of the changes to our economic structure, continues to cheapen what used to be a valuable amount of time in a newscast, and offers itself up for parody that could just about write itself for any of the late night cable comedy shows.
David Muir, now introduced as ‘anchor David Muir,’ smirks his way through these indulgent stories, repeating from piece to piece precisely what we’ve heard before. What’s new is that the bottom has gotten even lower in this charade.
Children have been pimped as stooges in this false drama. Just tonight, three pre-tweeners are found alongside a mother in a parking lot, asked whether they will find more American made products in the electronics store or the sporting goods store. "SPORTING GOOOOOODS" they shriek. But as the camera follows them inside, the reporting staying outside, and we again were left wondering. To paraphrase Clara Peller, 'Where's the news?'
A boss who has hired three people following a previous Made in America story is given time to laud his contribution to the economy. Three people? Who’s kidding who.
Most significantly, earlier in this exceedingly long piece, long by network standards, a brand new low was created by ABC. The network that learned over a generation ago that you do not fool mother nature with real news by recreating scenes, has managed to not let those same standards and rules apply in this era of digital cameras and i-reporters. Tonight, ABC added a graphic atop the screen at the beginning of their story, placing an image in a corner implying that the footage was created directly by an ‘MIA CAM.’ Hell, it even had the flashing red dot that we know tells us our personal camera is recording.
But this MIA or Made in America camera was nothing more than a false lens, a fictional appearance within a contrived story deep within what should be a more thoughtful newscast. It is the representation of what we’ve allowed news to be…..a device to hook and hold viewers, regardless of the methods, the manner, or the style.
Would it matter more if we knew if anchor David Muir’s suits were domestic or imported, or whether his shoes were Thom McCann’s? Would it help if we knew whether the glasses Diane Sawyer wears were made in America? How about the cars owned and driven by the senior production and editorial teams at ABC News? What about where they vacation, or what wines they drink, or food they consume? Domestic, or not made in America?
Reporting some time back provided journalists with a window onto what they were covering. But when you smash that window, and step over that space, the one that separated the reporting from the public, you do open yourself up to these questions.
And they need to continue to be asked, even if they’re coming one at a time.
Perhaps as valued and respected news watchers like Andrew Tyndall continue to document that these emperors really do have no clothes (domestic or imported), others who measure content and perform analysis will follow.
For now, we’ll try not to choke on Oscar Meyer or spit up our Coca Cola as we try to watch the evening news.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Hugo (a review)
What a charming, delightful film.
Martin Scorcese once again proves that he doesn’t need blood and guts to tell a story. Hugo is just plain theater, with a fantastic backstory, a strong arc, an impressive finish, and all the essential ingredients for an instant classic: tragedy, drama, adventure, intrigue, and passion.
For cinephiles, there’s history as well, plenty of it. Presented in a very creative, pleasing, and modern way. Hugo makes use of a myriad of storytelling devices, foreshadowing, previewing, voice-over, dramatic shots, revealing camera angles, all with just the right touch of character.
While this is a period piece, intended to be Paris in the 30’s, there’s more than just an apparent timelessness to this. There’s an ease to it. A reminder, even though none among us was around at that time, that hustle and bustle is not a modern phenomenon, even if social attitudes and mores may have changed over the ensuing decades. And the message of the film, that we each have a purpose, a role, a story to tell, something to share, is not just universal. It’s elemental, as the basic root of storytelling.
For younger viewers, the pacing might be a bit slow, though the action and intrigue may well compensate for the pace. For teens, who the hell knows. There’s no vampire action, at least none I could discern, and the closest thing to visible romance was some handholding and a polite peck. Not even dancing, at least not among the younger set in the film. For adults, this film is a feast. One does have to share an interest in films, in drama, in storytelling, and in the possibility of people opening their hearts, and thus minds, to allow for there to be change.
As for the particulars, Ben Kingsley is fantastic. What would you expect. Sacha Baron Cohen is convincing as the ogre dressed in a rail security uniform. Cameos by Johnny Depp and Jude Law give this some major star flavor. Emily Mortimer’s understated flower girl provides the right touch. And teens Chloë Grace Moretz and Asa Butterfield make this film, with just the right level of innocence and curiosity to play out this thoughtful and very smart drama.
Finally, a 3D film that was truly worth it. Not over the top, not shot for effect, but simply something that just plain works. And delivers.
Martin Scorcese once again proves that he doesn’t need blood and guts to tell a story. Hugo is just plain theater, with a fantastic backstory, a strong arc, an impressive finish, and all the essential ingredients for an instant classic: tragedy, drama, adventure, intrigue, and passion.
For cinephiles, there’s history as well, plenty of it. Presented in a very creative, pleasing, and modern way. Hugo makes use of a myriad of storytelling devices, foreshadowing, previewing, voice-over, dramatic shots, revealing camera angles, all with just the right touch of character.
While this is a period piece, intended to be Paris in the 30’s, there’s more than just an apparent timelessness to this. There’s an ease to it. A reminder, even though none among us was around at that time, that hustle and bustle is not a modern phenomenon, even if social attitudes and mores may have changed over the ensuing decades. And the message of the film, that we each have a purpose, a role, a story to tell, something to share, is not just universal. It’s elemental, as the basic root of storytelling.
For younger viewers, the pacing might be a bit slow, though the action and intrigue may well compensate for the pace. For teens, who the hell knows. There’s no vampire action, at least none I could discern, and the closest thing to visible romance was some handholding and a polite peck. Not even dancing, at least not among the younger set in the film. For adults, this film is a feast. One does have to share an interest in films, in drama, in storytelling, and in the possibility of people opening their hearts, and thus minds, to allow for there to be change.
As for the particulars, Ben Kingsley is fantastic. What would you expect. Sacha Baron Cohen is convincing as the ogre dressed in a rail security uniform. Cameos by Johnny Depp and Jude Law give this some major star flavor. Emily Mortimer’s understated flower girl provides the right touch. And teens Chloë Grace Moretz and Asa Butterfield make this film, with just the right level of innocence and curiosity to play out this thoughtful and very smart drama.
Finally, a 3D film that was truly worth it. Not over the top, not shot for effect, but simply something that just plain works. And delivers.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
San Francisco's Contemporary Jewish Museum
Noted architect Daniel Libeskind is still celebrated around the world for his angular take on both form and function.
Libeskind continues to receive commissions and builds buildings and creates space across the Americas, as well as in Europe and Asia.
I have had the opportunity to be in spaces he has designed in Berlin, Toronto, Denver, and now San Francisco.
And to a project, I have to say, the Boards and individuals who hire him must really like the language he speaks, for his work doesn’t match any aspiration for a successful space.
Just the other day I spent some time at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. A renovated space just off Market Street in the now trendy and popular Yerba Buena Gardens, this behometh of a building offers a jarring contrast upon approach, a witty appeal in the canyon of the main level, and then a series of perplexing statements in the main gallery entryway and public area.
The existing building obtained by the CJM was a 19th century power station for the city of San Francisco. Destroyed in the 1906 earthquake, it was rebuild on site in classical form under the design of noted architect Willis Polk. Unused and virtually abandoned for years, it was reclaimed for the CJM project, and Libeskind was hired in 1998 to create the new space.
What’s interesting here, among other things, is that this commission was Libeskind’s first in North America, before his additions to the Royal Art Museum in Toronto, the Denver Art Museum, and even his role in the 9/11 Towers at the World Trade Center.
Yet it was completed only in 2008, after each of the other museum additions, as well as the opening of his Jewish Museum Berlin, the signature piece in his portfolio.
In visiting several of Libeskind’s spaces, you immediately see the severity of his lines, the deliberateness of his angles, and the harshness of corners that seem to materialize out of nowhere. In plan, these exteriors must be tantalizing, for in execution, they are cold and off-putting, literally creating distance between people and the building itself.
The CJM space, while it doesn’t have as many dangerous corners and post-construction safety notices as in Libeskind’s other domestic works, still manages to confound with perhaps the most counter-intuitive central atrium of any museum intended to attract, hold, and move people.
The CJM has two levels. The main level has a large gift shop in one of Libeskind’s cubes, as well as some smaller gallery space buried in corners behind the primary stairwell, off and away from the ticket region. There’s also a very large but underutilized entryway, which recognizes the industrial history of this space, but when facing east seems little more than a post-modernist interpretation of the original building.
Ascending the main stairs, modern as well, stark in white, with handrails along one side which serve the dual purpose of keeping both children and adults away from the pointy corner walls, ascending the main stairs delivers you to a landing which provides at least three choices.
Choice #1, immediately to the right, offers an exceedingly large and bright gallery space, directly above the gift shop, and in the extension of Libeskind’s slashing cube. This space is deceptively large, incorporates creative use of perception and distance to present identical windows as different in size, and serves as a way station on a journey through the museum.
Choice #2 is further ahead on the landing, and offers a perch above the main floor, a view down and across the old industrial space, above fellow museumgoers who are still entering the building. Yet this space is contained by the corner in which it was placed, and requires entering and exiting in the same manner. It is also at this space that the two aspects of this building come together, the old and the new. At at this space is the visual confluence of the Jewish symbolism that Libeskind follows as the design theme, the linkage of the Hebrew words 'chai' and 'yud' to celebrate life, and this building. Or so he says.
Choice #3 presents a large freight elevator, stark in appearance, unusual in it’s placement, right past a turn towards the primary gallery space, and central to the grand area that should be where you are when you are standing at this point. Among the many design issues with the building, the placement of this important yet best hidden item is the most perplexing. There’s no getting around this. You have to step right around this service elevator to enter the primary gallery space. Why there’s no false wall to mask the elevator, let alone an elevator in another space, since it was added for this project, is quite perplexing.
Beyond these three choices, at least with regard to the problems with this building, is that this landing, this confluence, this core of the building, is actually a choke point, forcing people to step aside, step back, or in some way actively work to avoid moving into one another as they attempt to proceed. So coming up stairs, you may be forced to wait for other ahead to clear. Moving from any of the three choice points mentioned above, you might similarly have to dance around others, or just wait for them to move. And making matters even worse, there’s a series of sharp turns to enter the primary gallery space, boards to read just behind one of the sharp turns, and here’s the most confounding point of this all, jutting walls closing off this space, so that in addition to the turns, the confluence, and the volume, are angular white walls coming down at you, restricting your entry, as some sort of post-industrial sentry designed to thwart entry, as opposed to invite thought and wonder. It’s a bit much, and the breathlessness of the last sentence really is intended to convey as much. Really.
This space, which all must traverse in order to enter the main gallery, is a travesty, and a sorry excuse for a grand promenade for what should be a remarkable building.
How someone can take an open space virtually the size of a football field, and manage to contain a central area for movement down to the size of an airport restroom, defies logic.
That, after all, is the brilliance of Daniel Libeskind. Reducer of architecture, confounder of design.
Libeskind continues to receive commissions and builds buildings and creates space across the Americas, as well as in Europe and Asia.
I have had the opportunity to be in spaces he has designed in Berlin, Toronto, Denver, and now San Francisco.
And to a project, I have to say, the Boards and individuals who hire him must really like the language he speaks, for his work doesn’t match any aspiration for a successful space.
Just the other day I spent some time at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. A renovated space just off Market Street in the now trendy and popular Yerba Buena Gardens, this behometh of a building offers a jarring contrast upon approach, a witty appeal in the canyon of the main level, and then a series of perplexing statements in the main gallery entryway and public area.
The existing building obtained by the CJM was a 19th century power station for the city of San Francisco. Destroyed in the 1906 earthquake, it was rebuild on site in classical form under the design of noted architect Willis Polk. Unused and virtually abandoned for years, it was reclaimed for the CJM project, and Libeskind was hired in 1998 to create the new space.
What’s interesting here, among other things, is that this commission was Libeskind’s first in North America, before his additions to the Royal Art Museum in Toronto, the Denver Art Museum, and even his role in the 9/11 Towers at the World Trade Center.
Yet it was completed only in 2008, after each of the other museum additions, as well as the opening of his Jewish Museum Berlin, the signature piece in his portfolio.
In visiting several of Libeskind’s spaces, you immediately see the severity of his lines, the deliberateness of his angles, and the harshness of corners that seem to materialize out of nowhere. In plan, these exteriors must be tantalizing, for in execution, they are cold and off-putting, literally creating distance between people and the building itself.
The CJM space, while it doesn’t have as many dangerous corners and post-construction safety notices as in Libeskind’s other domestic works, still manages to confound with perhaps the most counter-intuitive central atrium of any museum intended to attract, hold, and move people.
The CJM has two levels. The main level has a large gift shop in one of Libeskind’s cubes, as well as some smaller gallery space buried in corners behind the primary stairwell, off and away from the ticket region. There’s also a very large but underutilized entryway, which recognizes the industrial history of this space, but when facing east seems little more than a post-modernist interpretation of the original building.
Ascending the main stairs, modern as well, stark in white, with handrails along one side which serve the dual purpose of keeping both children and adults away from the pointy corner walls, ascending the main stairs delivers you to a landing which provides at least three choices.
Choice #1, immediately to the right, offers an exceedingly large and bright gallery space, directly above the gift shop, and in the extension of Libeskind’s slashing cube. This space is deceptively large, incorporates creative use of perception and distance to present identical windows as different in size, and serves as a way station on a journey through the museum.
Choice #2 is further ahead on the landing, and offers a perch above the main floor, a view down and across the old industrial space, above fellow museumgoers who are still entering the building. Yet this space is contained by the corner in which it was placed, and requires entering and exiting in the same manner. It is also at this space that the two aspects of this building come together, the old and the new. At at this space is the visual confluence of the Jewish symbolism that Libeskind follows as the design theme, the linkage of the Hebrew words 'chai' and 'yud' to celebrate life, and this building. Or so he says.
Choice #3 presents a large freight elevator, stark in appearance, unusual in it’s placement, right past a turn towards the primary gallery space, and central to the grand area that should be where you are when you are standing at this point. Among the many design issues with the building, the placement of this important yet best hidden item is the most perplexing. There’s no getting around this. You have to step right around this service elevator to enter the primary gallery space. Why there’s no false wall to mask the elevator, let alone an elevator in another space, since it was added for this project, is quite perplexing.
Beyond these three choices, at least with regard to the problems with this building, is that this landing, this confluence, this core of the building, is actually a choke point, forcing people to step aside, step back, or in some way actively work to avoid moving into one another as they attempt to proceed. So coming up stairs, you may be forced to wait for other ahead to clear. Moving from any of the three choice points mentioned above, you might similarly have to dance around others, or just wait for them to move. And making matters even worse, there’s a series of sharp turns to enter the primary gallery space, boards to read just behind one of the sharp turns, and here’s the most confounding point of this all, jutting walls closing off this space, so that in addition to the turns, the confluence, and the volume, are angular white walls coming down at you, restricting your entry, as some sort of post-industrial sentry designed to thwart entry, as opposed to invite thought and wonder. It’s a bit much, and the breathlessness of the last sentence really is intended to convey as much. Really.
This space, which all must traverse in order to enter the main gallery, is a travesty, and a sorry excuse for a grand promenade for what should be a remarkable building.
How someone can take an open space virtually the size of a football field, and manage to contain a central area for movement down to the size of an airport restroom, defies logic.
That, after all, is the brilliance of Daniel Libeskind. Reducer of architecture, confounder of design.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
ESPN hot seat over Syracuse tape
Deadspin attempts to waggle its' finger at the Bristol Behometh and the Bernie Fine/Syracuse story. But there are so many more lingering questions. http://deadspin.com/5863164/eight-years-later-espn-reports-what-it-knows-about-the-claims-against-bernie-fine
Here are ten+ that come to mind for anyone who cares about journalism or reporting:
Were any calls placed to Syracuse area law enforcement to determine whether any of these allegations had risen to the level of an investigation, or arrest?
Why not hire an audio analyst to check the voices on tape to confirm identity?
Why not examine the tape to determine whether it has been edited, and if so, where?
Why hold onto the audio for the past 8+ years if this is not a story?
How often did these allegations come up in meetings over the past 8+ years?
Who was this story first brought to at ESPN? A producer? A reporter? Anyone in their enterprise unit? An investigative person?
Did anyone at ESPN in the past 8+ years reach out to anyone at Syracuse University to seek comment? Was there any communication of any kind about these allegations?
If, as ESPN college basketball reporter Andy Katz noted on air this week, it is exceedingly unusual for a college team to travel ‘ball boys’ to out of town games and tournaments, why did this not come up in anyone’s reporting on Syracuse men’s basketball?
Were there any concerns that the relationship between ESPN and the NCAA might be compromised if even preliminary calls were made about this story to Syracuse University or any of its’ representatives or associates?
Why wait until these allegations have the cover of the Sandusky/Paterno/Penn State story before reporting on the tape?
And, as a bonus, what did ESPN’s legal department have to say about these allegations, this tape, and its significance, when it was advised of the tape’s existence in 2002?
Here are ten+ that come to mind for anyone who cares about journalism or reporting:
Were any calls placed to Syracuse area law enforcement to determine whether any of these allegations had risen to the level of an investigation, or arrest?
Why not hire an audio analyst to check the voices on tape to confirm identity?
Why not examine the tape to determine whether it has been edited, and if so, where?
Why hold onto the audio for the past 8+ years if this is not a story?
How often did these allegations come up in meetings over the past 8+ years?
Who was this story first brought to at ESPN? A producer? A reporter? Anyone in their enterprise unit? An investigative person?
Did anyone at ESPN in the past 8+ years reach out to anyone at Syracuse University to seek comment? Was there any communication of any kind about these allegations?
If, as ESPN college basketball reporter Andy Katz noted on air this week, it is exceedingly unusual for a college team to travel ‘ball boys’ to out of town games and tournaments, why did this not come up in anyone’s reporting on Syracuse men’s basketball?
Were there any concerns that the relationship between ESPN and the NCAA might be compromised if even preliminary calls were made about this story to Syracuse University or any of its’ representatives or associates?
Why wait until these allegations have the cover of the Sandusky/Paterno/Penn State story before reporting on the tape?
And, as a bonus, what did ESPN’s legal department have to say about these allegations, this tape, and its significance, when it was advised of the tape’s existence in 2002?
Monday, November 28, 2011
Musings on San Francisco Bay Area
Weather changes from neighborhood to neighborhood. The locals know this. The tourists read of it in advance. Yet it’s still refreshing.
Yerba Buena Park provides a respite for urbanites. There are museums, fancy shops, hotels, and pricy restaurants. And there are also public spaces, attractive park areas, each of which acknowledge the city, incorporate urban life, and welcome all who come and visit, not only the moneyed class.
San Francisco street life defines eclectic. From Tranny couples, to punk kids, to toking teens, on to trendy/attempting middle age women, over to Brit-styled men who ogle men, the streetscape along Market provides a range of views and styles and appearances. Some of them even memorable. Others decent.
The homeless situation in the city is serious. These guys are light years beyond an ‘Occupy’ movement. Wherever they are, they’re occupying their space, 24/7. It’s hard living on the street, and faces, stares, attitudes, and distance from the surroundings further defines as much.
There’s a shitload of Asian restaurants in the Bay Area. Who knew? Well, we all know, but still, there are dozens of Noodle Shops, several places with the name ‘Bamboo,’ and enough Dim Sum places to be sick of interior food carts. This city is a foodie destination. And you don’t have to go far to adventure, or drop big money for good stuff. Then again, not every hole in the wall offers paradise. Food, that is.
While there are iconic tourist locations, from Ghirardelli Square to the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island, and of course Coit Tower and Lombard Street, the Cable Cars and the stores and shops around Union Square, even the remnants of the Haight, there is so much more just steps from touristville, and in many ways, under the noses of everyone. Take in the Hunter-Dulin building at 111 Sutter Street. A French imperial inspired skyscraper (well, 25 stories capped with spires and a mansard rood) in the heart of the financial district, it has the main entrance on Sutter, but around the corner, the entrance to the Wells Fargo branch on the corner of Montgomery and Post provides another way into this building, and a reminder of the grandeur and wealth that old banks once had. But the key to this building is the address, and the history that was made by Philip Marlowe when he had the office of detective Sam Spade up on the sixth floor.
Just around the block, near the corner of Bush and Market, is the Skinny Building. Just 20 feet wide, this narrow mini-rise goes up six stories at 130 Bush Street, and provides some whimsical context to the serious nature of the financial services buildings all around. It’s reportedly called the Skinny Building not only for it’s narrow width, but because its’ original tenants were garment workers who made ties and other ‘skinny’ fabrics. Go figure.
Visiting in the late fall provides a respite from the weather in other cities, particularly of those back east. But even without the opportunity to catch a Giants game at AT&T, or to stroll about on a mild evening, there’s still the splendor that is Golden Gate Park, and perhaps the greatest treat the city provides visitors, the truly inspiring and remarkably sedate Japanese Tea Garden. Ensconced within this urban oasis, the Tea Garden truly takes visitors away from the relative bustle, and even from the strollers and joggers in the Park, and offers a tranquil setting which seems to provide greater distance from the buildings and people and even sounds that lap up to the manicured flora than one could imagine.
I have long been telling whoever asks that Americans should find a way in their life to live in two cities for at least a year or two. New York is naturally one of these cities. And San Francisco, and the entire Bay Area, is the other. While it’s not possible to do more than scratch the surface on a short visit, sustained trips over many years continue to provide insight into this fantastic, vibrant, and energetic city, this place that provides a range of sites, tastes, and even settings, for virtually every type of person. I would expand that to say that the Bay Area could work for anyone, from any country, any culture, any background, and with any language skill. There’s much to appreciate, and even more to take in. I am already looking forward to my next visit.
Yerba Buena Park provides a respite for urbanites. There are museums, fancy shops, hotels, and pricy restaurants. And there are also public spaces, attractive park areas, each of which acknowledge the city, incorporate urban life, and welcome all who come and visit, not only the moneyed class.
San Francisco street life defines eclectic. From Tranny couples, to punk kids, to toking teens, on to trendy/attempting middle age women, over to Brit-styled men who ogle men, the streetscape along Market provides a range of views and styles and appearances. Some of them even memorable. Others decent.
The homeless situation in the city is serious. These guys are light years beyond an ‘Occupy’ movement. Wherever they are, they’re occupying their space, 24/7. It’s hard living on the street, and faces, stares, attitudes, and distance from the surroundings further defines as much.
There’s a shitload of Asian restaurants in the Bay Area. Who knew? Well, we all know, but still, there are dozens of Noodle Shops, several places with the name ‘Bamboo,’ and enough Dim Sum places to be sick of interior food carts. This city is a foodie destination. And you don’t have to go far to adventure, or drop big money for good stuff. Then again, not every hole in the wall offers paradise. Food, that is.
While there are iconic tourist locations, from Ghirardelli Square to the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island, and of course Coit Tower and Lombard Street, the Cable Cars and the stores and shops around Union Square, even the remnants of the Haight, there is so much more just steps from touristville, and in many ways, under the noses of everyone. Take in the Hunter-Dulin building at 111 Sutter Street. A French imperial inspired skyscraper (well, 25 stories capped with spires and a mansard rood) in the heart of the financial district, it has the main entrance on Sutter, but around the corner, the entrance to the Wells Fargo branch on the corner of Montgomery and Post provides another way into this building, and a reminder of the grandeur and wealth that old banks once had. But the key to this building is the address, and the history that was made by Philip Marlowe when he had the office of detective Sam Spade up on the sixth floor.
Just around the block, near the corner of Bush and Market, is the Skinny Building. Just 20 feet wide, this narrow mini-rise goes up six stories at 130 Bush Street, and provides some whimsical context to the serious nature of the financial services buildings all around. It’s reportedly called the Skinny Building not only for it’s narrow width, but because its’ original tenants were garment workers who made ties and other ‘skinny’ fabrics. Go figure.
Visiting in the late fall provides a respite from the weather in other cities, particularly of those back east. But even without the opportunity to catch a Giants game at AT&T, or to stroll about on a mild evening, there’s still the splendor that is Golden Gate Park, and perhaps the greatest treat the city provides visitors, the truly inspiring and remarkably sedate Japanese Tea Garden. Ensconced within this urban oasis, the Tea Garden truly takes visitors away from the relative bustle, and even from the strollers and joggers in the Park, and offers a tranquil setting which seems to provide greater distance from the buildings and people and even sounds that lap up to the manicured flora than one could imagine.
I have long been telling whoever asks that Americans should find a way in their life to live in two cities for at least a year or two. New York is naturally one of these cities. And San Francisco, and the entire Bay Area, is the other. While it’s not possible to do more than scratch the surface on a short visit, sustained trips over many years continue to provide insight into this fantastic, vibrant, and energetic city, this place that provides a range of sites, tastes, and even settings, for virtually every type of person. I would expand that to say that the Bay Area could work for anyone, from any country, any culture, any background, and with any language skill. There’s much to appreciate, and even more to take in. I am already looking forward to my next visit.
Friday, September 16, 2011
evolution
I heard a new phrase the other day. It still both haunts and suggests. So here's a short story.
A friend and fellow journalism educator and I were talking about the state of the news business, what students are interested in learning, and what universities are willing to teach. It was a rather open ended conversation, and had it been held in a bar, with drinks, in the evening, it probably would have made more sense than the dayside, office space conversation that it was.
But when we spoke about writing styles, and styling writing for a particular medium, my friend passed on something he had picked up from one of his former students, now working on a hybrid news app, or something of the sort, to one of the newer players to the media sandbox.
It's no longer just writing to catch someone's eye, which we do try in television, or to hold someone's interest with compelling sound, which can work in both radio and television, nor is it just strong characters, which works primarily in print, but across each traditional media landscape.
What this recent graduate, the former student, is impressing upon people, and his company is seeing through research, is that the next generation journalist is going to have to write for the swipe.
So it's one, two, three swipes you're out. It's not a matter of losing the reader after the jump, or getting the viewer to stick with the news after the first commercial, or the radio listener to not change the station while stuck in traffic.
Now, it's all immediate, it's all rapid, and it's all there, in no more than three brief lines. Headlines, perhaps. Teases, maybe. News and information, hopefully, but just not sure.
And that's why this revelation, this description for a practice we know has been widely embraced, is both haunting and suggestive. It will continue to scare most of the old guard, and suggest opportunity for the creative members of the news regiments to come.
And it's already here. Just look down on your device for affirmation. Now swipe for the next article.
A friend and fellow journalism educator and I were talking about the state of the news business, what students are interested in learning, and what universities are willing to teach. It was a rather open ended conversation, and had it been held in a bar, with drinks, in the evening, it probably would have made more sense than the dayside, office space conversation that it was.
But when we spoke about writing styles, and styling writing for a particular medium, my friend passed on something he had picked up from one of his former students, now working on a hybrid news app, or something of the sort, to one of the newer players to the media sandbox.
It's no longer just writing to catch someone's eye, which we do try in television, or to hold someone's interest with compelling sound, which can work in both radio and television, nor is it just strong characters, which works primarily in print, but across each traditional media landscape.
What this recent graduate, the former student, is impressing upon people, and his company is seeing through research, is that the next generation journalist is going to have to write for the swipe.
So it's one, two, three swipes you're out. It's not a matter of losing the reader after the jump, or getting the viewer to stick with the news after the first commercial, or the radio listener to not change the station while stuck in traffic.
Now, it's all immediate, it's all rapid, and it's all there, in no more than three brief lines. Headlines, perhaps. Teases, maybe. News and information, hopefully, but just not sure.
And that's why this revelation, this description for a practice we know has been widely embraced, is both haunting and suggestive. It will continue to scare most of the old guard, and suggest opportunity for the creative members of the news regiments to come.
And it's already here. Just look down on your device for affirmation. Now swipe for the next article.
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