Research in Consumer Spaces

Research in Consumer Spaces: Emergent Issues Scott A. Lukas ([email protected]) An Unexpected Encounter The images pictured in these slides depict something of a typical research encounter that occurred earlier this year. For many years, I have been studying the nature of everyday consumer spaces—theme parks, restaurants, casinos, interpretive centers, museums, shopping malls, lifestyle stores, and a myriad of other spaces that reflect the use of theming or other innovative narrative approach to consumer spatial organization. I am a cultural anthropologist who also worked as an employee trainer at a now closed Six Flags theme park called AstroWorld, which was located in Houston, Texas, and in my somewhat unique work in studying the cultural contexts of themed spaces, I have attempted to bring levels of innovation to the research that I conduct. As I’ll discuss later in the talk, one of the early revelations that I had about my research was the fact that it often contrasts with the popular models of themed spaces that were in circulation prior to my research and, to some extent, are still in circulation today. Many of these models of space focus on simplified notions of slavish consumerism, cultural hegemony, or versions of Frankfurt School critiques of mass culture. As significant as these are to the study of themed spaces and other sites of public consumerism, I have argued for the in-depth, in situ, emic, or insider’s views of these spaces. Whether we are considering the guests who visit these spaces, the workers who staff them, or the designers and others who create them, we ought to be concerned with giving these voices significance in our research. There is nothing terribly revolutionary in this statement—it’s quite the simple restatement of anthropologist Bronislaw Manilowski’s focus on the “native point of life” and variations, outside of anthropology, that emphasize the value of studying the everydayness or phenomenological side of life. Yet, there is another side of this concern that does offer potentially radical rewards in terms of the epistemology and methodology of consumer spaces, and this is the value of how certain emergent issues—that develop within the contexts of these spaces, whatever their design or use—impinge on and re-inform the methods of social scientists like myself. To return to my set of research images here, let me add that this scenario played itself out at Downtown Disney in Anaheim, California. The set-up is quite mundane: cultural anthropologist studies consumer spaces, seeks more media for Youtube channel that is watched by few people, goes to space to collect more media to upload to Youtube. I will discuss this specific use of new media in the context of consumer research of this sort later, but let me offer that this use of media—specifically my digital camcorder—is what gave this particular incident significance in terms of contemporary research in consumer space. Prior to the event, I had recorded two to three of my typical short clips. Each introduces an idea about the consumer space at hand—perhaps an example of how an architectural façade is used or the content of a narrative that governs a given space—and then suggests to the viewer the value of visiting and analyzing such a space. I have always thought of a small part of these Youtube videos as being free publicity for the space being considered—as they tend to rhetorically follow a positive, somewhat celebratory narrative—but this isn’t necessarily the view of the people who operate these spaces, as I soon discovered here. On filming my third feature—about one minute through it—I began to notice the presence of a converging mass of security guards. Three actually—so not exactly a mass, but there was something menacing about their presence and their garb which connoted a mix of social control and guest-centered friendliness. As the three guards approach me, I note in my small viewing screen that they are walking directly at me but their faces are all directed 45 degrees from my point of view—each smiling as they approach me about 20 yards out. When they finally enter my personal space, I note that they have formed a half-circle around me and discover later that a few have their hands on their belts (mace or some sort of communication device, I cannot be sure). I open the conversation, “How is it going?” Only one of the guards—the fellow on the left who appears to be the lead speaks to me. The others smile, somewhat uncomfortably, and one keeps his hand on his belt. “Great,” I respond, “just filming some Youtube videos.” “Yes,” the lead says, “we noticed that and that is why we stopped you. We were concerned about that.” I realize that I didn’t bring any of my business cards to hand 1 out but explained that I have this great new book, The Immersive Worlds Handbook, and I was filming one of hundreds of features that celebrate the theming, architecture, and design of innovative consumer spaces. I further explained how these features work but was cut off by the guard who said, “We think that what you are doing is a little strange.” “Strange,” I exclaimed, “I’m a researcher.” [Incidentally, it occurs to me that there is something strange about research, but this is a sort of institutionalized strangeness that plays an important role in how we researchers innovate, but I didn’t mention that during this encounter.] Anyway, I was then given a few paragraphs that seem to have been memorized from a Disney security handbook—all the matters about how my “research” is disrupting the enjoyment of other guests and that if I want to do future such videos, I will have to call a 1-800 number and then go through the process of securing permissions. Mind you the whole time this is occurring, I am about 100 yards from a guest whom I had noted earlier had an entire tripod and camera set and was filming unabated by Disney security. Perhaps he had secured permission or looked palpably less strange than I. I was then told by the guard that I could stay in Downtown Disney and “look around,” but I was forbidden to use my camera. I walk off, straight to the parking lot, muttering something under my breath like, “you call this public space?!” Following this incident, I had the sense that there was something marvelously telling about what had transpired. This moment on tape—interrupted by what I might call “social control with a smile”—illustrates the nature and challenge of the research that I conduct in consumer space. Notions of engagement and disengagement; frustration and joy; researcher and customer; critic and sympathize ran through my head in the hours after this encounter. I use it here as the beginning of my talk on emergent issues in consumer spaces as I feel that it illustrates not only a sense of where my (or our) research is at but, more significantly, where it might be headed. And a key metaphor today for this talk is the idea that we, the researchers, are no longer entirely in control of our research. This, I believe, is established by this somewhat comic encounter from Downtown Disney, and I will return to this realization throughout the talk today. I offered earlier that the research that I conduct falls into the general category of “public consumer space.” This category entails many possible spaces—the typical being theme parks, casinos, restaurants and the like—and I should note that the words “public” and “consumption” are, themselves the subjects of intense debates. I hope to define some of those debates today and all encourage wide-ranging dialogue among the faculty, students, and community members here today so that we can collectively develop new models of consumer spaces and also potentially share some of these on Youtube. I also mentioned earlier that my initial foray into this research began as I was an employee trainer at a theme park where I was privileged to see more of the inner workings of the park than had been (or typically are today) portrayed in critical literature on these spaces. Thus, I learned early on that the nuances that I was discovering on the ground as a theme park trainer were dramatically different from the versions related to previous, so-called critical studies. To this first important point, I add four others, and emphasize the most important contexts of the last two from this list of what has characterized research in public consumer spaces.1 The second point, which connects back to the issue of overly generalized models of these spaces, is about the lack of first-person, on-theground research that addresses either (or both) of the domains of the consumption practices of guests and workers and the design practices of those who create public consumer spaces. Third, I point to the fact that, quite surprisingly, for all of the everydayness and public popularity of these spaces, they remain understudied—especially by American anthropologists. I would attribute this to the fact that researchers have feared—going along with point 1—that studies of such spaces could perhaps (critiques notwithstanding) give unnecessary voice to and help cement the cultural status and hegemony of these very spaces. These are all curious and important facets of these spaces that deserve legitimate attention in future considerations, but let me emphasize the final two as I feel that these have the greatest impact on how we study these very spaces of everyday consumerism. My fourth point is that there are numerous opportunities for new research that avoids some of the pitfalls of past research. Indeed, I would claim that some of the studies of these spaces while I find to be personally 2 enjoyable, do not so much advance the research of these spaces. These tend to be more critical and playful accounts of the spaces and less social scientific studies of them.2 There are opportunities, then, to do both critical and phenomenological research in these spaces. The fifth point harkens back to my earlier link of the researchers, are no longer entirely in control of their research. This is a general theme that can be identified in many facets of social science research—whether conducted in public popular spaces or not. The point, which I will expand on, is that there are wide-scale, game-changing sorts of shifts in media, popular culture, public space, and existential reality that necessarily impact—and often at dramatic levels—the study of consumer space. Some time ago, I developed a chart that would express a number of the emergent issues that I believe are currently impacting research in public spaces of consumption. I have listed these here [Chart 1] and will refer to them throughout the talk. These are quite the mélange of issues, and I suggest that as we look at this chart that we not consider it to be all-inclusive in terms of the field of consumer studies. These are issues that I have selected as representative of the two worlds that I have inhabited—that of a researcher of themed spaces who seeks out the foundations, language, and approaches of designers who create these spaces and of a student and now teacher of critical social science who participated in the tail-end of the late-1980s critique of ethnographic representation located at Rice University and sometimes called the “Writing Culture” or “postmodern” anthropological critiques.3 These concerns are expressed as a “flow chart” of sorts which could inform—at a conceptual level—how each of us might approach the study of consumer spaces, but it may be more useful to further organize these into four main categories that still express the significance of these issues all the while developing four overall tendencies that connect back to my overall concerns with the loss of control that has occurred within research spaces and their associated methodological practices. There is something else that I should note about the development of the contexts of these emergent issues and this is summarized in this chart [Chart 2]. The emergent issues that we will consider have impacts on multiple phases of consumer research. I classify these in three main categories—on-site or in situ methods; analysis (at the pre- and post-field research stages); and writing and representation (the traditional vocation of ethnography in cultural anthropology). Note that I have denoted media and technology as important subsets of the three categories—this is not due to the ill-fated Disney Youtube encounter but stems from my sensibility that many potentials of new research are to be located in media, technological, and social media contexts. To return to the contexts of emergent issues in consumer spaces, let me reframe Chart 1 into the context of the four tendencies of the “loss of research” that I have portended. These include: cultural remaking; everyday experimentalism; personalization; and the politics of space and research [Table 3]. As well, there is a fifth area of what I will consider to be some of the future possibilities of consumer space and its study. Cultural Remaking During my stay here in Mainz, I will be offering a course called “Cultures of Remaking” (which meets for the next four Saturdays). This course grows out of my research in remade spaces (theme parks and other themed and immersive spaces) as well as in forms of media (like film and video game remakes). What fascinates me about remaking is the fact that any remake establishes a connection—whether firm or soft— between one form and a second one. Irrespective of time, culture, politics, or existential intent, remakes institute connections between people, forms, experiences, and media in ways that enlighten and enrage. What strikes me to be so fascinating about remakes is the stakes that are involved. As I mentioned in the talk on history magic, where there are greater risks or stakes at hand, it is likely that greater cultural, political, and existential energies will abound. In the case of studying consumer spaces, I am especially curious about the ways in which remaking impacts the spaces, their experiences, and the many personal and political issues associated with them. Here, then, are a few indications as to some of the ways in which forms of cultural remaking impact the design of consumer spaces and also some of the new research protocols that may be appropriate to them. 3 Expansion of Spatial Approaches (Theming) Theming has been one of the most popular approaches to the spatial and experiential organization of consumer space. As this theme map of Las Vegas illustrates, the themes used to organize space are varied and multi-referential. Theming—which may be connected to place, culture, association, mood, brand, lifestyle, or interest—creates some of the most evocative experiences within space.4 One of the reasons that theming has remained a popular approach to consumer space is the fact that it carries with it complex possibilities of meaning, experience, and performance. As this chart indicates, theming draws on the many associations that it carries—including ideas in the minds of guest, workers, designers, and many others that proliferate in the worlds of popular culture.5 [Chart 4] Interestingly, in recent years, some forms of theming in consumer space have been on the decline. This is the case in some of the casino spaces along the Las Vegas Strip, as illustrated in a recent academic discussion of this in the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art show 12+7: Artists and Architects of CityCenter. As noted in the show, “With CityCenter, Las Vegas moves out of the realm of the misunderstood and under-appreciated in terms of its cultural offerings. Instead, City Center’s fine art collection, along with its collection of significant buildings, will become a benchmark for enlightened development here and around the globe.” What this quote identifies is the growing sense that theming may become staid, old-timey, perhaps childlike (as in the cases of the Treasure Island, Luxor, and Excalibur in Las Vegas). As I am addressing throughout my stay in Mainz this summer, there is a need for more developed, analytical, and methodologically rigorous work on themed and immersive spaces. One of my major concerns in this regard is to develop more emic- or insider’s-based research that focuses on the day-to-day and on-the-ground experiences with consumer spaces.6 Such ethnographic studies would likely lead to a second important category of work on consumer spaces. This involves the development of more complex models of theming and immersion, especially at the levels of design (including the dynamics of theming as these spaces are conceptualized, reworked, and implemented), guest and worker (including their interactions with the spaces, themes, and experiences), politics (including new models of criticism, such as ethnographic complicity), and authenticity (more specifically, the idea of postauthenticity). Sensory Space The use of the senses in consumer space is also, I believe, a growing area of transformation both in design applications and in terms of the study of sensory spaces. More and more, consumer space relies on the uses of the senses—the evocative nature of touch, smell, sight, hearing, and taste—to create greater immersive moments. In the Immersive Worlds Handbook, I dedicate one chapter to the discussion of the senses in space and was fortunate to conduct an interview with Gordon Grice—an expert in the use of the senses in space. What Grice indicates is that the senses establish consistency in a space and, when working together, create a total experience for the guest.7 Restaurants like Alinea and Moto (both in Chicago) and Ferran Adrià’s now closed elBulli (Spain) have suggested one possible use of the senses that goes beyond the purpose of consistency. In numerous ways, these restaurants mix the senses, create synesthetic connections with the guest, and even fool the guest’s senses by using one sense to trick the other sense into thinking something is what it is not. Dark restaurants, including a number in Germany, have used the deprivation of the senses to demand new experiential expectations of the guest, which in some ways goes against the motto of the “guest is always right.” There is an important connection of these consumer uses of spaces and the study of them in academic senses. New academic journals like The Senses and Society, monographs, and conferences dedicated to the topic have placed new attention on the many phenomenological, cultural, economic, and other issues connected to the senses. The focus on the senses and the idea that sensory appeals in space are evocative may also promote new attention to the more emic-level studies of consumer spaces. The landmark work by Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, challenged architects, designers, and city planners to 4 invest more energy in the study of the life of cities, as revealed in their everyday phenomenological happenings.8 The vividness of the senses and their relationship to experience in consumer spaces may inspire social researchers to focus more on the phenomenological aspects of these spaces. It is likely that some of these phenomenological inspirations could result in new, hybrid forms of research. One example is the Mystory genre suggested by Greg Ulmer in his work Applied Grammatology.9 This is a form that may be apt for experimental applications due to its inherently hybrid and experiential nature. Blurring There is also a blurring of space that has transpired. More and more, consumer spaces indicate tendencies towards the playful, the complex, ambiguous, ironic, and they manifest new and powerful connections with technology, media, and social media.10 Additionally, spaces like the theme park have come to influence museums, museums theme parks, and other variations. Blurring thus reflects a growing tendency in consumer space in which the former “pure products” have given way to hybridity, multiplicity, and heterogeneity. One example of such a blurring of consumer space is found at 139 Norfolk Street in New York City. This particular space, as pictured here, has extended the “pop up” retail concept to new levels. In some cases the space is a wedding chapel, in others an indoor drive-in theater, in others an office party space for those without offices, and in others a place to play ping pong. This space literally blurs its inherent nature and questions of us, “what is a consumer space?” What are your expectations of it and, perhaps, how can we go against those expectations and create a conceptually interesting space that at a meta level challenges what we know of consumer space? The spirit of blurring and remaking can also be expressed in emergent forms of research. I am particularly taken with approaches that attempt to model moments from everyday consumer life and further employ these in conversations with space and its designers. One example is the IDEO firm’s Method Cards.11 These cards allow designers or other creative individuals to think about all aspects of the design process and I find them to be particularly apt for use in spatial design or research. Another significant aspect of research is to develop new protocols that could be used to connect the on-the-ground forms of spatial blurring that I have mentioned to conceptual matters. One example is my work on a series of position papers that attempt to posit the relationship between theme parks and museums and interpretive centers. No doubt, further such creative forms of research are on the horizon. Everyday Experimentalism Yesterday, in my talk on the magic history of amusement parks, I closed with the examples of the Museum of Jurassic Technology and Dennis Severs’ House. These two spaces emphasized what could be called an experimental approach to themed and immersive spaces. Here, the word “experimental” has two meanings. The first is that of empiricism or the use of methods to understand and document the world—this being the traditional pursuit of science. The second is that of experimental art and performance—that which engages with the world, in a variety of ways, to change, alter, or remix it. In this section on everyday experimentalism, I will attempt to merge these two meanings of experimentation and connect them to the contexts of consumer space. Experimentalism in Everyday Life An important topic in these regards is the ways in which forms of experimentalism have entered everyday life. For many years, since my days as a graduate student, I have been interested in the transformative potentials of the avant-garde. The groundbreaking work of the Surrealists, Dadaists, Situationist International, Fluxus, and many other performative movements through the 1960s established new precedents for analyzing, understanding, responding to, and reworking reality. While the avant-garde has been influential in many circles—notably in the worlds of space and research that I am addressing today— there has been concern that their approaches champion obscurity, perhaps promote anti-social behavior (as in the example of a person who might commit him or herself to the life of an authentic Dadaist), and lend 5 themselves, ironically as Paul Mann notes, to being subsumed into the institutional structures of everyday life.12 It is in this last instance, that I see the greatest resonance with the considerations at hand today. In terms of consumer space, to what extent can avant-garde influences be determined and to what degree are these effects and their ultimate sense of being situated in the architectural, material, performative, and other forms outcomes that can be considered anti-institutional in the original avant-garde sense? As well, to what extent are the research and writing approaches of contemporary analysts and researchers influenced by any of the experimentalism of the avant-gardes? In addressing the first area—that of the impact of avant-gardes on space—let me turn to this table [Table 5]. Here, I am interested in looking at the issue of how traditional consumer space is constructed and, at least conceptually, how an avant-garde transformation of that space might appear. I will be somewhat brief in analyzing these issues and will return to them in my talk next week on theme parks and social justice. I have attempted to chart some of the major ways in which consumer space is organized. We may consider the meaning governing the space. Consider an example of a guest moving through the multi-sensory, though linear ride The Pirates of the Caribbean. Both the literal and metaphorical meanings (one is confined to a boat that rides along a track, one moves from the entrance to the exit of the ride, and one is told a story of heroism and battle, with traditional plot and characterization) of the ride support a meaning that is linear, A to B. We could contrast this space with one that appears to be more avant-garde in nature—such as Dennis Severs’ House, as I have previously mentioned. In the case of this space, the movements of the guest are not directly dictated by those working at the space—one is free to roam, wander, and reflect. The meanings contained in the space are obtuse, difficult to determine, perhaps not fully determined in advance by their writers. We could say that both in literal and metaphorical senses, Dennis Severs’ House promotes a rhizomatic approach to meaning—allowing the guest to chart an unpredictable path that changes as does the meaning achieved throughout the space.13 We may extend this analysis to the architecture of a space. In a traditional one—like Pirates of the Caribbean—we note that the architecture commonly serves the functional purposes of the space, such as in the example of the queue house that is directed to control the flow of guests through the space in an efficient, Tayloristic manner. Even when themed with the narrative of the space at hand, we may be suspicious with the uses of theming that are geared at the larger goals of efficiency and control. Likewise, when the guest completes the ride and exits the space, he or she is pushed through one of many ubiquitous gift shops that are also themed yet serve the purpose of expanding on the consumptive patterns of the guest. I would contrast this gift shop with the one from the Museum of Jurassic Technology, which is much more ironic in concept. And for those of you who heard my reference in the talk about the mysterious bat that moves through solid walls yesterday, you can purchase a souvenir of this marvelous bat at the museum! I should also mention that there are emergent realms of everyday experimentalism that are additional signs of a shift in consumer space. More and more people strive to act in the role of traveler, as opposed to tourist, when they visit consumer spaces, cities, historical sites, or other spaces. Books like The Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel promote a new sort of sensibility in terms of travel.14 Experiments inspired by surrealistic games and Situationist International techniques of psychogeography are examples of ways in which everyday people can be inspired to think beyond the traditional confines of consumer and tourist space. The yellow arrow project is another example of such approach to space in an experimental sense.15 And, in terms of some of the experimental ethnographic projects that I mentioned earlier, I believe that any of these tendencies towards a postmodern or avant-garde approach to space should, ultimately, result in renewed experimental efforts in the study of such spaces. We researchers could be called inconsistent in terms of our concerns about the lack of experimentalism in the spaces that we study all the while we are producing narratives and field accounts that all but mimic the linearity and non-rhizomatic of the spaces under consideration. 6 Alternative Space Quite in line with the considerations of everyday experimentalism in space is the topic of alternative space. Due to time constraints, I have summarized a range of topics and approaches in this sort of space; though I would say that these separate forms are not as dynamically related in the real world as I present them to be. I have already featured a number of contemporary spaces that are both consumer space and alternative space. Most interesting to me are consumer spaces that have some attention to irony, experimentalism, darkness, postmodernism, mysticism, flux, openness, and many other foci that I have summarized in this chart.16 [Chart 6] BonBon Land, a theme park outside of Copenhagen, Denmark, is one such interesting space that characterizes an approach to dark theming as it references what Georges Bataille would have denoted as the “low”—base experiences like defecation, vomiting, and the like. We might call BonBon Land Rabelaisian in terms of its use of humor and the bawdy. Certain casino spaces have also taken to Rabelaisian approaches, as in this example of the restroom from the Las Vegas Hilton. Other casino spaces—like those of the new CityCenter complex in Las Vegas—have featured postmodern architecture (here with Daniel Liebeskind’s Crystals) and interior design (here with David Rockwell’s postmodern trees on the inside of Crystals). These and many other examples of alternative space offer some of the most exciting new directions for the experiences of consumer space. Greater and more complex integration of the guest in space; the desire for the guest to be part of a more open and potentially transcendent narrative within space; emphases on new themes that are disturbing, transgressive, even depressing, are but a few of the ways in which alternative space may promote different forms of guest experience. For the researcher such spaces will necessitate new, perhaps less modernistic models of space, divergent understandings of the meanings and semiotics of the space, and new transgressive models of ethnography and research that situate the researcher in places of mystery, discovery, and transcendence that mirror the experiences of the guest. Culturematics I have been considering many of the ways in which the experimentalism of the avant-gardes has impacted consumer space, and I should point to the interesting work that is being done in the arenas of marketing, branding, and experiential consumerism. The case of the culturematic is one that illustrates quite nicely the ways in which experimentalism—especially in the empirical sense of testing things out—have taken root in contemporary culture. Grant McCracken defines the culturematic as “a little machine for making culture. It is designed to do three things: test the world, discover meaning, and unleash value.”17 McCracken cites many examples of culturematics. His favorite is Bud Caddell who created a fictional character that lived in the mailroom in the office of the show Mad Men. Caddell then tweeted his accounts of what was going on at this fictional office. Others include Jay-Z’s 1998 song, “Hard Knock Life,” which combined two genres of music, Alice Water’s restaurant Chez Panisse, fantasy sports leagues, experiments on Youtube—like individuals who filmed themselves driving their cars until they ran out of gas or who took one photo a day and produced a video representing years of that person’s life—the idea to write a blog based on a Julia Child cookbook, people rearranging the placement of a Tony Blair book in UK bookstores as political protest, and many, many more. McCracken says that culturematics are often cheap, experimental, clever, quirky, counterintuitive (they seem strange, but they engage us and draw us in to them), opportunistic, make culture out of culture and help discover value. I am still in the process of studying McCracken’s notion of the culturematic, but what I find interesting at this point in time is the extent to which such forms of everyday experimentation—not unlike convergence culture, which I will address later—are impacting the nature of consumerism (including the ways in which people think about consumer culture, even when they are not in a consumer space) and the nature of consumer space itself. Clearly, with more people experimenting with the forms described by McCracken, there will be new expectations as to the experiences common to themed and immersive spaces—interactivity, innovative uses of technology and material culture, opportunities for deep and personal experimentation are just a few of the advances that may be required in new consumer spaces. For the researcher, I would suggest that we pay close attention to the deployment of culturematics in space 7 and that we consider ways of leveraging insights from these everyday forms of research. As well, we may be open to considering ways of developing hybrid forms of research that may combine the approaches of culturematics with our own experimental field and ethnographic methods. Expansion of the Documentation of Everyday Life As mentioned in the case of culturematics, many forms of experimentation in the consumer world are taking place through the modalities of media, social media, and forms of ubiquitous technology. Later, I will indicate some ways in which consumer spaces are integrating social media within their own spaces— physical and virtual. The development of blogs and microblogs (like Tumblr), the proliferation of quick and aesthetically attractive apps for photography (such as Instagram), the everyday use of cameras and cellphones that offer immediate uploads to Facebook, Flickr, Youtube and other social media and media sites are, in my mind, welcomed advances in the consumer worlds of the guest. I find it especially exciting to be able to review the pages of everyday people who express their own sensibilities about the many sites that I study and to incorporate these in my research.. Back in the days of my dissertation research, I would have enjoyed having these additional opportunities for emic- or insider’s-based research in consumer space. I have found my own sources of research inspiration in the many ways that everyday people document their lives in consumer spaces. Recently, I have developed Tumblr, Pinterest, and Youtube sites that all focus on the issues that I have considered for years in academic journals and books.18 What’s different about these new issues is their wide availability—whether for the viewing of people interested in themed and immersive spaces or for the use by other academics who may wish to expand their understandings of related issues and perhaps create new academic social networks. This emphasis on the everyday documentation of life connects with the next major concern—that of the increasing personalization of consumer space. Personalization One of the most significant transformations of consumer space involves the increased connection of the consumer’s lifeworld to the space itself—what can be called the personalization of consumer space. As I will address in my third talk next week, the personalization of space is expressed by the shift in metaphors from the “door of the world” to the “mirror of the self.” World’s fairs, museums, and amusement parks often expressed the idea of transforming the self of the consumer by transporting him or her to another world—an exotic place where new things can be discovered. With theme parks and contemporary themed spaces, the emphasis shifted from purely otherworldly pursuits to the inclusion of emphases that first focused on the family and then shifted to the individual. Personalization suggests immense changes to both the nature of consumer space and the ways in which it may be studied by social scientists. Lovemarks In 2004, Saatchi & Saatchi CEO Kevin Roberts wrote the influential book Lovemarks: The Future Beyond Brands.19 In this text, Roberts establishes a significant new direction for the brand which, he argues, is in dire need of repair. His solution is to create new branding forms that will result in extremely powerful and significant connections between brands and their consumers. The lovemark, according to Roberts, creates “loyalty beyond reason” and are brand experiences that command respect and love. Mystery (through stories, dreams, myths, and icons), Sensuality (through the senses), and Intimacy (through commitment, empathy, and passion) are the three components that will result in the most effective brands. A quick perusal of the text and one discovers a curious mix of branding theory, academic criticism, coffee table Zen guidebook tidbits, ruminations on mystery and empathy, and images and text that seem to be those out of a travel and discovery, self-help text. It’s a curious text, indeed, and likely identifies tendencies that are being followed by many of the most successful companies that have turned more attention to the intensely personal side of branding. There is a notable connection to spatial brands—including theme parks—on Roberts’ lovemarks website.20 While these spatial inclusions are interesting in their wide diversity of form on the site, I find the use of the narratives included for their spaces to be limited. This is one example of a narrative related to Berlin conceptualized as a lovemark: “Berlin is one of my favourite cities. I love it in the sunshine, I love it 8 in the snow. Nothing quite beats spending the day wandering around art galleries and museums in Berlin.” It would be useful for researchers to go beyond this surface-level appeal of a “lovemarked” space—perhaps through models of the affective and emotional connections with a space. As more and more consumer spaces take on the appeals of lovemarks, an important consideration of the space is also due. Roberts celebrates the “loyalty beyond reason” aspect of the lovemark, but we might wonder, if such a space results in a religiouslike quality of attachment between space and guest, what are the ethical and political ramifications of this attachment? Mobility and Social Media Social media and the idea of mobility have had numerous impacts on the consumer spaces of the present. I was reminded of this during a research trip to the Las Vegas Strip. Very innocuous, near the check-in desk of the New York-New York, I noted this social media station. Indeed, at a time in which the old-timey lion exhibit was on its way out at the MGM, the ushering in of this new attraction signaled to me the sense that social media had begun to make its impact on the Strip. Of course, over the last five years or so any visitor to the Strip would note the constant uploading of images to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and the like, as well as the common texting, Twittering, and checking-in in Strip venues, but this sort of invasion of space by a clear purveyor of social media was quite astounding to me. Connected to social media is mobility which, I suggest in the idea of the lifespace later, is a trope of architecture, material culture, and technology which has some of the most potentially dramatic impacts on our senses of public consumer space. Disney, Universal, and other theme park companies are well on the way of developing mobile apps that allow for direct interaction with the spaces of their parks. Disney’s Magic Band is an example of one of these current uses. These uses suggest that consumer architecture is not bounded by static buildings, facades, and landmarks. Narratives can be quickly altered and adapted in line with the interaction of guests with more permanent spaces and the possibilities of augmented reality—such as through Google glasses—is an additional opportunity to turn the consumer space on its head. Already, MGM casinos and resorts have said that they will ban the use of Google glasses from table game spaces in their casinos, for obvious reasons of the dangers of card counting. But once the social control issues are sorted out, it is clear that mobile media and augmented reality will have a very pronounced impact on the nature of consumer space. One interesting opportunity for designers is to allow guests in the space to add-on and comment on space and attractions within it. The palimpsestuous opportunities for more democratic space abound; of course, one concern of such citation and journaling of space is that the corporate narrative is given over to more and more sources. The result is a sort of convergence culture, as Henry Jenkins would say. Not bad, we postmodern theorists would say, as this results in a more polyvocal consumer text or space, but for the designer or operator of space this could result in decline of the god’s eye narrative of the space as it gets lost in a Gadamerian or Genettean hermeneutics. Fortunately, cultural critics and analysts don't have to worry about such loss, or at least their paycheck does not depend on it. For we, I would say, there is great opportunity for new forms of research that places mobility, in situ citation, and social media accounts at the center of our picture. If you heard my talk on history magic yesterday, you heard me speak of Yelp and TripAdvisor accounts or reviews of the new Luna Park at Coney Island. Such on-the-ground reviews of consumer space—whether biased or objective—offer the social analyst a sense of the many meanings behind a space. Imagine that in the future we could somehow get access to any and all commentary generated for a particular space. We can do some of this now through a simple search of Twitter hashtags and other social media posts—the sum of which may generate interesting though sometimes useless information about a space. Were there more spaces that allow for the real-time annotation of their attractions and were the social analyst given access to such feeds it could be the equivalent of a teenager having access to millions of free mp3 files on torrent sites. 9 Non-Organic Identity An important transformation in terms of the personalization of space relates to new models of the self. Specifically, these are ones that challenge the notion of organic identity. One such model is psychologist Kenneth Gergen’s notion of the “saturated self.”21 Gergen offered that contemporary life is more and more characterized by conditions of social saturation. Gergen wrote his important work well before the advent of mobile media, social networking, and many of the other Internet forms that have increased the degree to which everyday individuals are saturated in technological, economic, cultural, social and other systems. Depending on the space, a visit to a consumer locale may, typically, involve an experience that is characterized by saturation. Consider the earlier forms of immersion in Coney Island amusement parks—the feeling of the guest being bombarded by sensory, performative, and even existential forms heightened the sense of otherworldliness and the exotic that was a hallmark of early amusements. We might extend the work of Gergen and consider the many other ways in which the organic, bounded self has been challenged in contemporary psychological and cultural theory. Baudrillard’s work on hyperreality, the significant contributions of cultural criminology, and many other postmodern analyses of the self, all, in some way, suggest a model of the self that is consistent with Jean-Francois Lyotard’s famous dictum of the “incredulity towards metanarratives” that is characteristic of postmodernism.22 The self, today, is less bounded, contingent, constituent, and in flux as compared with the past and so too, I might add, is the contemporary leisure space that articulates with these post-metanarrative selves and the methods that may be employed to study them. Designers and those who script the generative narratives of themed and immersive spaces have become more and more open to a sense of contingency when it comes to planning such spaces. I consider a venue like New York City’s 139 Norfolk Street (which I discussed earlier) to be metaphorically and practically interesting when it comes to envisioning spaces that are as in flux as the consumer selves that visit them. The typical “pop-up” space (whether a restaurant or a lifestyle store) strikes a similar chord in this regard. I mentioned Kevin Roberts’ lovemark earlier and I believe that even a cursory read of this text would reveal nothing short of postmodern tendencies in Roberts’ sense of how products and spaces can be more connected to the lifeworlds of consumers. A similar sensibility may be attributed to Pine and Gilmore’s assessments of consumer authenticity in their work Authenticity: What Consumers Really Want.23 One of the most fascinating aspects of the text is the way in which they do confront postmodern critiques of consumerism and authenticity—notably the work of Baudrillard and Benjamin—in an intelligent and meaningful manner. Critics, no doubt, would scoff at any of these deployments of postmodern theories of the self and culture as mere manipulations of critical theory that never intended to sell a designer bear or hip bourgeois doll. There is concern here, I agree, but this sense of confusion as to the intent of such uses of critical theory for consumer means is an apt opening for the analyst of consumer space. Extensive interviews of branding gurus like Roberts, Pine and Gilmore; the consumers who connect with new spaces; and other designers and operators of such spaces offer unique opportunities to engage both the critical and postmodern theories that we are addressing as well as the spaces that are often, at least in small part, inspired by them. Such interviews, coupled with participant observation in the spaces, might be geared at semiotic and hermeneutic analyses, including ones that would identify the complex, mystical, and contingent meanings that are simultaneously the sources of the models of the self, of the dynamics of the spaces, and the critiques of the analysts of such spaces. DIY and Lifehacking The DIY and lifehacking movements are in interesting positions to impact the nature of consumer space and its analysis. Being able to do it or make it yourself in a space has vast potential for the personalization of the guest within the space. The Home Depot, though not a traditional themed space, has emphasized the “you can do it, we can help” attitude through numerous ads, marketing campaigns, in-store displays, and hands-on seminars. The tendencies of DIY have led to a movement called “lifehacking,” which focuses on the use of 10 innovative techniques to solve everyday problems, not unlike bricolage that is practiced in many indigenous cultures.24 One of the most significant ways in which the spirit of DIY and lifehacking are employed and embellished is in contemporary museums. My wife and I enjoy the opportunity to do craft projects with our niece and nephews. Occasionally, we undertook such endeavors in our home and discovered that kids have a certain knack for spilling paint, flour, or whatever staining and messy substance on the floor. We discovered that two local museums near our home solved this problem. Children are encouraged to work through the principle of making something that they saw in exhibits of the museum or modeling an operation that is closely based on a concept from one of the exhibits. In this case at the Nevada Museum of Art, children and adults are encouraged to create their own art cars that resemble the real ones that are made annually at the Burning Man festival in the Nevada desert. While these DIY and lifehacking tendencies are produced, here, in the context of children’s activities in a Reno museum, I believe that they have broader applicability in more consumer spaces. Consider, in a much more serious tone, the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, California. Here, theming and immersion are used to affectively connect the guest to the harrowing issues of the Holocaust and genocide. Guests are encouraged to think on their own and, perhaps extending the pedagogical lessons from the museum back to the home and the community, are asked to consider what tolerance means in their individual sense. The contexts of DIY here are, more importantly, connected to issues well beyond the practical ones of the Home Depot—the intention is to get the guest to think more critically and to, perhaps, transform. Certainly, social analysts could think about similar contexts of transformation and use these inspirations from DIY and lifehacking to consider how their own understandings of how consumer spaces are “made,” not unlike the traditions of bricolage, yet in conceptual and methodological senses. Convergence Culture Not unrelated to this last context of DIY is the notion of convergence culture, suggested by Henry Jenkins in his 2008 text by the same name.25 In his book, Jenkins considers the ways in which old and new media collide and describes convergence as “the flow of content across multiple media platforms, the cooperation between multiple media industries, and the migratory behavior of media audiences who would go almost anywhere in search of the kinds of entertainment experiences they wanted.”26 Convergence, Jenkins offers, is much more than a media phenomenon—it is a social one that involves consumers playing an active role in the discovery of the meaning of narratives within popular culture. Discovering secrets, Easter eggs, or other mysteries within the various landscapes of popular culture or affecting the outcome of a popular show like American Idol are examples of ways in which new and old forms are colliding. Jenkins suggests, in an interview in The Immersive Worlds Handbook, that convergence culture has made its way into the themed and immersive spaces of the present. He cites Disney’s Star Tours: The Adventures Continue (from 2010) as one such example.27 In the redesigned ride, guests have the opportunity to experience any one of 54 different storylines. If Jenkins is correct about the influence of convergence culture on the worlds of spatial consumerism, we will, no doubt, discover the increasing relevance of the guest as he or she connects with the space. Analysts, too, will benefit from a renewed focus on the ways in which consumer spaces have become more dynamic and participatory—an apt metaphor for new models of collaboration and shared decision making within contemporary ethnography.28 Lifespace Tendencies In some of my most recent research on themed and immersive spaces, I have tried to sum up the many tendencies of personalization within space through the term “lifespace.”29 This term currently exists as a conceptual marker of sorts. I use it to imply a new direction of consumer space. Unlike spaces of the past which relied on the consumer fitting into a general scheme of consumption—buy this product, watch this show, visit this restaurant, as long we you meet our bottom line of having you consume in our space—in lifespaces the experiences of the space are geared at the most intimate realms of the individual. As I offered at the beginning of this section, the movement from the “door of the world” to the “mirror of the self” has radical implications in terms of the nature of consumer space. Another unique facet of this transformation is 11 the extension of space beyond the consumer space itself. When the guest returns home from a trip to the theme park, he or she may extend the narratives of that space and their emerging intersections with his or her life into the virtual, technological, and social media realms. As space continues to evolve, I believe that we will see greater uses of personalization and lifespace tendencies that transform the relationships of the guest and the space at hand. Researchers will also be impacted by these alterations of spaces and consumption. As George Marcus has written in his work on multi-sited ethnography: In multi-sited ethnography, comparison emerges from putting questions to an emergent object of study whose contours, sites, and relationships are not known beforehand, but are themselves a contribution of making an account that has different, complexly connected real-world sites of investigation. The object of study is ultimately mobile and multiply situated, so that any ethnography of such an object will have a comparative dimension that is integral to it, in the form of juxtapositions of phenomena that conventionally have appeared to be (or conceptually have been kept) “world’s apart.”30 Apart from this conceptual and methodological multi-sitedness, we will as researchers of space note considerable ways in which the spaces, themselves, elude our grasp as they further evolve into multiplicities of space, form, media, technology, narrative, and experience. The Politics of Space and Research In my talk next week, “Theme Parks: From Cultural Remaking to Social Justice,” I will be addressing the explicit political and critical contexts of theme parks and themed spaces in the hopes of offering new models and visions of immersive consumer spaces. Today, I do wish to also address this important context of the politics of space and research—for I do believe that among the tendencies impacting consumer space and its study, this is one of the key ones. I begin here with this image of a typical IKEA store. The “Democracy By Design” slogan has been powerfully appealing for IKEA. For some consumers, the idea of manually assembling particle board furniture and contraptions from IKEA may indeed represent a “democracy by design.” Tough, as I discovered in the numerous parodies of the ubiquitous IKEA product assembly instructions, not everyone is so convinced of this merging of political realities and consumer space. Devotion and Transcendence Whether we view the “Democracy By Design” in a tongue-and-check or more serious manner, I believe that the spatiality of a typical IKEA store, like many such lifestyle spaces around the world, speaks volumes about the ways in which politics have intersected with consumer space. Take the example of American Girl—a chain of lifestyle stores throughout the United States. No greater are the senses of devotion and transcendence felt than when one walks into these spaces and experiences the intense connections between the dolls, associated spaces of them, and the girls and parents (typically mothers) who so cherish them.31 In this example of American Girl, there are closer and more intimate connections of the guest with the space, but as we considered with the lovemark, this is a potentially problematic matter. How do we feel about such intimacy? Is it the new order of the day in which politics, the public sphere, and consumer space merge in one whole? This question, and the many answers that will no doubt emerge from it, provides new opportunities for social analysts to reconsider the extent to which politics and space intermingle in each other’s realm of contention. Cultural criticism, especially of the sort suggested in Marcus and Fischer’s Anthropology as Cultural Critique, will provide new opportunities to engage these questions of space and politics.32 Other emergent political models—including studies of biopolitics, the multitude in Hardt and Negri’s sense, and the connections of politics, the media, and consumer spectacle—will also inform new forms of critique.33 12 Everydayness of Space In an interview for the PBS Frontline documentary The Persuaders, cultural theorist and activist Naomi Klein speaks to a telling phenomenon of contemporary branded spaces—their “unbrandedness.” As she says, “They took [the brand] further, of course, with [the planned community] Celebration, Florida, where you pack up the kids and move inside the brand. I find it really interesting that Disney describes Celebration as a tribute, a celebration of public space. What’s interesting about Celebration, Florida, is that there are no brands there. Once you actually achieve brand nirvana, what you want to do is you want to seal the exits. There’s no competition, and you’ve got full synergy, full vertical integration, and there’s no need for marketing.”34 What Klein points to is the fact that more and more spaces seem to conceal their intentions from us. Spaces, even when branded and fully part of a consumer empire, may seem natural, homey, even comfortable. Consider the fact that Starbucks has become one of the most successful brands in part due to the fact that it has toned down its brand and has heightened atmosphere, affect, and the mood of its stores.35 We may contrast the examples of Starbucks being recognized as being too branded—especially in these iconic spaces in Berlin and Beijing—with those of a more subtle nature. Even branded spaces not typically associated with hominess and comfort—like this McDonalds in Freiburg, Germany—have shed their former overtness in brand. Returning to Klein’s example of Celebration Florida, Disney’s planned community that is no longer owned by Disney, we note an interesting phenomenon of the branded space—namely that it approaches what Roland Barthes described of myth in his epic work Mythologies. Myth, he said, is “depoliticized speech.”36 Applying his notion of myth to contemporary unbranded space, we see that the seeming everydayness of consumer spaces like Celebration Florida is a depoliticization of space or, more appropriately, branded and corporate space. The concern here, quite obviously, is that we risk the danger of succumbing to the power of the (spatial) myth at hand. Even in some overt cases, like the former ING Café (now rebranded as Capitol One 360), visitors are made to experience the brand through affective contexts that are not only depoliticized but are made to be something other than a branded experience—coolness, hipness, even a wink are to be expected from this branded space. So, what’s left of cultural criticism in this era of newly branded spaces that playfully avoid the branding pitfalls of the past? Cultural analysts can, I believe, produce diligent research that addresses the interesting parallels of mythic semiotics—of the sort that Barthes references—and contemporary, “unbranding” in public space. The Changing Nature of “Public” Spaces This last example of the (un)branded, everydayness of space highlights a significant aspect of consumer space—namely, the growing breakdown of public and private space. There are clear implications here in terms of the relationship of the guest to the space. If a space is public, at least in conception, and yet the guest is unable to partake in behaviors that have been considered acceptable and legal in spaces of the past, the question of the decline of public space is evident. This is a notable topic to consider, but I believe that even more significant is the impact of this changing nature of space on research conducted within the space. As you recall from my opening, I have witnessed cases in which I have been prevented from filming or researching in a quasi-public space like Downtown Disney. A colleague, Dave Gottwald, writes of a similar experience that he had attempting to study theming at upscale shopping malls in Southern California.37 On the Internet, similar experiences abound—often involving everyday people who simply want to document their times in what appear to be public spaces of consumption. In some cases, when warnings against photography are posted, the public is led to believe that it is in its best interest, as in this case from Target in its “distraction free shopping” statement. Critical Tendencies and Complicity The development of new mobile applications that allow an individual to identify store products that may be linked to politically problematic companies or to use their money and social resources to affect social causes are signs of an increasing immersion of mobile media space with political activism.38 One could say that a similar, though slower, effect is taking place in public spaces of consumption. During my time spent on a Celebrity cruise ship in 2010, I was struck by an interesting section of the ship that was, notably, not as well 13 populated as the theaters, pools, nightclubs, and restaurants of the ship. It was called Team Earth and it featured a computer terminal that allowed the user to calculate his or her carbon footprint in various arenas of life—that was, incidentally, not working during my time on the ship—and numerous boards that highlighted concerns with climate change, the environment, and related forms of social responsibility. As I perused the displays, I was quite curious about the extent to which this space on board the ship impacted the political consciousness of the many other guests. It seemed odd to me, and I at first, was critical of it—but this seemed too cynical, after all, Celebrity was highlighting environmental concerns, albeit aboard a large ship that had an especially large carbon footprint in the big scheme of things. At the time, I thought of anthropologist George Marcus’ notion of “ethnographic complicity,” which he suggests, “retains its ethical issues, but it does so in a way that forces a rethinking of the space and positioning of the anthropologistinformant relationship that is at the heart of fieldwork as it has been commonly conceived.”39 I might also note that aboard the Celebrity cruise ship were a number of interestingly themed guest bathrooms—many of which were adorned with quotes of famous authors and philosophers. This was my very first experience in a public consumer space in feeling an affinity with Nietzsche. Future And this leads me, briefly, to a consideration of some of the additional emphases that we may see in consumer space in the future. These are necessarily speculative and thus I have dedicated less attention to these forms. They are somewhat of a work in progress. I argue that this set of possibilities of both space and its analytic critique is an immanent one and could in some ways emerge as a result of both the breakdown of consumer space and the nature of research itself. Emergent Reflexivity The first of these is what I call emergent reflexivity. In additional work under development, I am interested in analyzing the possibilities that reflexivity—or the deep focus on the self and its complicity in systems of power, domination, and control—offers for space, organizations, and communities.40 The connection of this concept to space and social science research is quite profound. In the 1980s, many aspects of ethnographic theory shifted attention to the benefits of reflexivity in ethnographic and fieldwork contexts.41 Reflexivity has vast potential in space and, in many ways, it has been deployed to considerable success in consumer venues. Even a simple thing, like allowing a guest to input his or her name into a device that opens up the idea of transforming a depersonalized experience into a more reflexive one is a good beginning. Efforts at a number of recent world expos suggest that more designers are open to these approaches. No doubt such continued uses will also establish new precedents for reflexive research approaches that combine the early 1980s concerns with the ideas that are actually emerging from the new reflexive rides, attractions, and themed spaces of the future. Connecting back to my talk yesterday on history and the theme park, I am reminded of models of reflexivity and consumer space that connect to lived theming and the sensibilities of individuals involved in historical reenactment. Relational Space One concept that I have not covered extensively is the idea of relational space. Relational space refers to any use of space as a meeting place, a gathering of immanent possibility—not a place of final action or clear intent. There are two significant works in this sense of the relational. The first is psychologist Kenneth Gergen’s Relational Being—a text that “develops an account of human action that…replace[s] the presumption of bounded selves with a vision of relationship.”42 The second is the highly influential text by Nicolas Bourriaud, Relational Aesthetics.43 Bourriaud’s sense of the aesthetic centers on “a set of artistic practices which take as their theoretical and practical point of departure the whole of human relations and their social context, rather than an independent and private space.”44 In both of these senses of the relational—the one at the center of being and consciousness, the other at the site of aesthetic practice—we see the possibility of expressive connection to theories of consumer space. Some themed spaces of the present, such as certain non-traditional museums, have already developed these possibilities of relational 14 space, but I believe that more such possibilities of theme parks and other themed spaces that depart from the individual (even family) focus of the space with literal A-B meaning and that emphasize the use of the space as a jumping-off point for relational possibility is key. [Chart 7] For analysts, particularly anthropologists, these spaces will likely inspire further breakdown of the harsh self-other dialectic within research. Mobility and Liquidity Not unrelated to relational space is mobility and liquidity. I have spoken to some extent on the uses of mobility in space, particularly as mobile media is involved, but here I am more concerned with the overarching philosophical and conceptual aspects of consumer space as a mobile construction. The influences of transmedia, as Henry Jenkins has offered, offer possibilities of consumer spatial forms that are no longer bounded by one domain—such as a particular themed restaurant on a particular street in a certain city—and one form (such as an eatery where the guest sits down and has a meal amidst the theming).45 In new spaces, meanings—those behind the theming, the particular story of the space, the tie-in with other branding or consumer forms—will be transformed into narratives that extend beyond and connect with greater conceptual, semiotic, and existential potentials.46 Connected to mobility is the idea of liquidity, which is a significant postmodern foundation suggested by sociologist Zygmunt Bauman.47 Bauman’s metaphor of the liquid has vast potential beyond the conceptual level. Especially fascinating could be the possibility of consumer space and activity within it losing its traditional connection with the semiotic referent—furthering extending transmedia possibilities of new narratives within space. For the cultural analyst, there is the dream of working within a new consumer world that lacks the traditional foundations that once established the very idea of critique—no longer would we have a monolithic, archetypal Disney theme park ride space—and in its place the critic develops models of what may be called “ethnographic flux,” loosly paralleling the spirit of Fluxus art of the 1960s.48 Postauthenticity The study of authenticity and consumer experience is one of the most significant concerns of recent years.49 Both in terms of the academic and methodological concerns with the concept and the idea of its use in spatial and experiential senses, I believe that authenticity will continue to transform how the consumer space appears and how it is studied by the analyst. I have spoken with many themed designers who are creating new spaces in mind that reflect the play of multiplicities in their spaces. Designers of a new resort in Egypt, as an example, expressed that they actively refer to the various referents of “Egypt”—including the many material and cultural sites of Egypt and its re-presentation in venues like the Luxor Las Vegas.50 Given that designers have begun to jettison the stereotypical and foundational models of previous themed spaces, critics, as well, would do well with developing new analytical approaches that move beyond the so-called “authentic” forms of social critique of the past. I might then refer to the sum of these efforts to deconstruct the problematic concept of authenticity in spatial design and its role in the genesis of many forms of cultural critique and etic- or outsider’s-based models as postauthenticity. The Middle Voice and Meso Forms In a keynote address that I gave some time ago at the Themed Entertainment Association’s SATE conference, I meditated on the notion of a confessional booth that could be used to bridge the noticeable gap between academics who study themed and immersive spaces and the designers who create them. I realize that confessional booths are heavy and burdensome in terms of their existential import—and perhaps this is why no one at the conference jumped on the idea of setting up such a venue—but consider how more dialogue between the academics of theming and the designers of theming could result in innovative spaces and social research. I would suggest that such dialogue and resultant impacts on each of the other’s work— the space in one context, the critique and methodology in the other—would result in forms of intervention that illustrate meso forms and the middle voice. Meso forms are middle ones that appear at the space in between high theoretical formations and the on-the-ground deployments of method, while the middle voice references a conceptual space which resists the urges of the SVO or Subject-Verb-Object constructs of 15 language in which an actor acts, often violently, on an object. In the place of the SVO model is a middle voice in which the actor or speaker is not acting on the world but is in the midst of it.51 At a conference in Copenhagen, I began work on a model of intervention that operates at the level of tension between the designer of consumer space and the academic of consumer space. In its initial form, my research effort relates to the creation of an experimental consulting operation known as “culturespace.” I envision this space as a middle between the material space of theming and immersion and the meta space of its critique and one in which new possibilities emerge—radical, unsettling, perhaps too challenging for the designer to envision, too difficult to be enacted in a material sense, too risky for the guest to interact with, and too uncanny for the cultural critic to engage with.52 Here is one example of an additional experiment with consumer spatial research and narrative form that I refer you to today. I do not have the time to read it, but it is based on my use of a tiny, non-descript “I Love Power” mug from a now defunct Las Vegas gift shop. I have since developed this into an experimental video essay.53 Such work suggests a “middle voice” approach in that the ethnographer’s voice is contingent on the mug—a sort of objet petit a in Lacan’s or Zizek’s terms—and the entirety of the ethnographic account is based on the notion of a constituent approach to the field. New Investments in Politics and Social Justice This sense of the middle voice and meso forms suggest to me a return to the initial statement of the loss of control of the researcher’s research and, by corollary, the loss of control of the designer’s consumer space. In the conceptual and material spaces of intersection, crossroads, and cross-pollination, both sides in this important discussion of consumer spaces have to contend with “being in the middle” and “being in the midst” as opposed to being in control. In this “liminal space,” as anthropologist Victor Turner has called it, both parties discover a new sense of being, as a realization of new forms, new methods, and new dialogue and debate emerges.54 What rises to the surface in this space is the sense of lateralization or an equalization of voices within the space. This does not imply agreement of the parties participating in the dialogue but a meeting and conversation among the muses, as anthropologist Stephen A. Tyler has suggested in numerous sources and, most notably, in his book The Unspeakable.55 I believe that there is much more at stake than the debate over how new consumer spaces will be constituted or how the cultural analyst will consider them, and this is the “middle” realm of politics and social justice. I will save additional discussion as to how politics and social justice can play a part in the world of consumer space—which has been decidedly apolitical and often opposed to social justice in any of its appearances within the space—for my talk next week “Theme Parks: From Cultural Remaking to Social Justice.” Until then, to return to my initial thoughts, I argue that the circumstance in which the researcher experiences the sense of a loss of control in terms of the dynamics of the research may result in some of the greatest potentials for work in consumer spaces to come. 16 Charts and Tables Chart 1 Chart 2 17 Table 3—Summary of Emergent Issues and Their Spatial and Research Impacts Area Cultural Remaking Emergent Issue Theming Cultural Remaking Eclecticism Cultural Remaking The Senses Cultural Remaking Borrowing of Roles Cultural Remaking Blurring Experimentalism Everyday Avant Gardes Experimentalism Culturematics Experimentalism Documentation of Everyday Life Alternative Space (Ironic, Experimental, Dark Tourism; Postmodern Branding; Mysticism and Discovery) Experimentalism Spatial Impact Investment of Space with Narrative Variety of New Forms New and Embedded Empiricism Transformation of Spatial Forms Hybridity of Space The Expansion of Space into New Narrative Terrains Space Becomes a Site of Experimentation Expanded Space & Person New and Emergent Themes; Greater Integration; Space Becomes Quest (for Meaning) Personalization Lovemarks “Religiosity” of Space Personalization Mobility and Social Media Personalization Non-Organic Identity Personalization DIY and Lifehacking Personalization Convergence Culture Non-Spatial Space; Annotation of Space Postmodern Spatial-Personal Tendencies Guests Able to Make (On Their Own) in Space Correlations of Space and Guests Personalization Lifespace Tendencies Movement of Space into Consumer Lifeworld Politics - Space & Research Devotion & Transcendence Politics - Space & Research Everydayness Politics - Space & Research Politics - Space & Research Changing “Public” Space Critical Tendencies and Complicity Closer Connections of Space and Guest Space Appears to Be Not What It Is Public/Private Blurring Space and Consumption Becomes More Mindful; Guest is Self-Aware Future Emergent Reflexivity Future Future Relational Space Mobility & Liquidity Future Future Postauthenticity The Middle Voice & Meso Forms Social Justice Future Guest’s Greater Awareness of Her/His Role New Relational Possibility Space and Guest Are “On the Move” Playful or Mindful Space Guest is Always in the Midst of Things (Becoming) Space is Aligned to Social Justice Concerns Research Impact Reconsideration of Emic Understandings of Space More Complex Models of Space Focus on the Sensory Everyday Creation of New Models of Consumer Space Creation of New Models of Consumer Space Development of Avant-Garde Research Forms Paralleling of Academic and Everyday Research New Content Analysis (Big Data) Emphasis on the Desire of Guest to Experience Space in New Ways; New Models of (Postmodern) Brand; Alignment with Mystical Experiences of the Researcher Affective and Emotional Studies of Space Larger Datasets of Informants (“Feeds”) Meaning (Semiotic & Hermeneutical Approaches) Consideration of How Space Is “Made” Renewed Focused on the Dynamic and Participatory Nature of Space Reconsideration of the “Space” of Research (Multisitedness) Focus on Cultural Criticism Attention to the Semiotics of Space Question of Access to Sites Alignment of “Critical” Space with Social Critique; Deemphasis on the “Hero” Researcher New Models of Ethnographic Reflexivity Self-Other Breakdown Ethnographic Flux Decline of Etic-Models Emergent Narrative Forms; Collaboration (Applied) Cultural Criticism 18 Chart 4 19 Table 5 Characteristics of Traditional v. Avant-Garde Space (Scott A. Lukas, [email protected]) Meaning Role of Guest Economics Traditional Space Linear, A-B, Governed by Common Narratives (Good v. Evil, Monomyth, etc.) To safely move in the space, to be given the opportunity for safe and certain transgression Are the primary focus of the space (consumption is king) Architecture Traditional, expected, governed by the formal requirements of the space (e.g. queue house) or the greater goal of consumption Pedestrian Flow Serves the greater purposes of the space (consumption, convenience, efficiency, Taylorism) and displays linearity Happiness, Comfort, Solace Space is typically apolitical, and when politics are referenced there are very general references (e.g. Disney’s Hall of Presidents) Guest is asked to “make” and “discover” but these are confined, safe, and nontransgressive; worker acts in scripted ways (closed space) Forms of connection suggested are typical re-expressions of those of everyday life (e.g. hard work, patriotism, good v. evil) Encourages workers and guests to feel good and to not question the space or the actions of those in it too deeply The guest is encouraged to connect with the space after the fact (via social media) but the result is to re-inscribe the main narratives of the space itself Existential Quality Politics Creativity Metaphor Reflexivity Lifespace (Extra-Spatial Extensions) Avant-Garde Space Rhizomatic, Flowing, Indeterminate To be challenged and to challenge, risky and uncertain, transformation Are not the only focus of the space (consumption is sacrificed for existential, personal, or cultural purposes) Unexpected, unconventional, liminal, dreamlike, governed by the narrative goals of the space not the formal requirements of it or the forces of consumption Serves the idea of placing people in contact with others and the narratives of the space (rhizomatic quality) Mystery, Discovery, Transformation Space is connected to politics and the unsettling nature of politics is often used to motivate the guest to action Guest and worker are asked to express creativity in an authentic sense; involves more risk, uncertainty, and danger (open space) Forms of connection suggested are atypical and ask the guest to ponder new connections and expressions (e.g. “the brand is a child soldier”) Encourages deep levels of reflection of worker and guest and challenges both to focus on complicity and politics Challenges the guest to refocus on the connections made in the space and to take action beyond the space 20 Chart 6 Chart 7 21 Notes 1 For more on the general tendencies within qualitative research, see the important collection by Norman K. Denzin and Yvonna S. Lincoln, The SAGE Handbook of Qualitative Research, fourth edition, SAGE, 2011. 2 For more on these types of critiques, see Greil Marcus, “Forty Years of Overstatement: Criticism and the Disney Theme Parks,” in Designing Disney’s Theme Parks: The Architecture of Reassurance, ed. Karal Ann Marling, Flammarion, 1997, pp. 201-207. 3 For more on these critiques, see James Clifford and George E. Marcus, Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography, University of California Press, 1986; James Clifford, The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature, and Art, Harvard University Press, 1988; George E. Marcus, Ethnography through Thick and Thin, Princeton University Press, 1998; and Paul Rabinow, George E. Marcus, James Faubion and Tobias Rees, Designs for an Anthropology of the Contemporary, Duke University Press, 2008. 4 Scott A. Lukas, The Immersive Worlds Handbook: Designing Theme Park and Consumer Spaces, Focal Press, 2013, p. 69. 5 Ibid, p. 77. 6 As an example see Scott A. Lukas, “How the Theme Park Gets Its Power: Lived Theming, Social Control, and the Themed Worker Self, in The Themed Space: Locating Culture, Nation, and Self, ed. Scott A. Lukas, Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2007, 183206. 7 See interview with Gordon Grice in Scott A. Lukas, The Immersive Worlds Handbook: Designing Theme Park and Consumer Spaces, Focal Press, 2013, pp. 202-203. 8 Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Modern Library, 2011. See also, Thomas Bender, The Unfinished City: New York and the Metropolitan Idea, NYU Press, 2007. 9 Gregory L. Ulmer, Applied Grammatology: Post(e)-Pedagogy from Jacques Derrida to Joseph Beuys, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984. 10 In some ways, these new developments illustrate the idea of architecture become less material, more technological and cybernetic. See M. Christine Boyer, Cyber Cities, Princeton Architectural Press, 1996 and William J. Mitchell, City of Bits: Space, Place, and the Infobahn, MIT Press, 1996. 11 IDEO Method Cards: 51 Ways to Inspire Design, William Stout, 2003. Information available at http://www.ideo.com/work/method-cards/ 12 Paul Mann, The Theory-Death of the Avant-Garde, Indiana University Press, 1991. For an interesting look at the cultural influences of the avant-garde see, Philip Nel, The Avant-Garde and American Postmodernity: Small Incisive Shocks, University Press of Mississippi, 2002. 13 For more on the conceptual understanding of the rhizome see, Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, Bloomsbury Academic, 2013. 14 Rachael Antony and Joël Henry, The Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel, Lonely Planet Publications, 2005. 15 For more on the yellow arrow project see, http://yellowarrow.net/v3/ as well as Mark Shepard, ed. Sentient City: Ubiquitous Computing, Architecture, and the Future of Urban Space, MIT Press, 2011. 16 For more on dark theming see, Scott A. Lukas, “A Politics of Reverence and Irreverence: Social Discourse on Theming Controversies,” in The Themed Space: Locating Culture, Nation, and Self, ed. Scott A. Lukas, Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2007, pp. 271-293; and Scott A. Lukas, “From Themed Space to Lifespace,” in Judith Schlehe, Michiko Uike-Bormann, Carolyn Oesterle, and Wolfgang Hochbruck, eds. Themed Environments in Transcultural Perspective, Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010. 17 Grant McCracken, Culturematic: How Reality TV, John Cheever, a Pie Lab, Julia Child, Fantasy Football . . . Will Help You Create and Execute Breakthrough Ideas, Harvard Business Review Press, 2012. For the Web site that accompanies the book see, http://culturematic.ning.com/ 18 For my Youtube site see, http://www.youtube.com/user/immersiveworlds For Pinterest, http://pinterest.com/immersiveworlds/ and for Tumblr, http://immersiveworlds.tumblr.com/ 19 Kevin Roberts, Lovemarks: The Future Beyond Brands, powerHouse Books, 2004. 20 See http://www.lovemarks.com 21 Kenneth Gergen, The Saturated Self: Dilemmas Of Identity In Contemporary Life, Basic Books, 2000. 22 Jean-François Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, University Of Minnesota Press, 1984, p. xxiv. See also, Jeff Ferrell, Keith J. Hayward and Jock Young, Cultural Criminology: An Invitation, SAGE, 2008. 23 B. Joseph Pine & James H. Gilmore, Authenticity: What Consumers Really Want, Harvard Business School Press, 2007. 24 For more on lifehacking in popular culture see, http://lifehacker.com/ For the history of bricolage in indigenous art contexts see, Charlene Cerny and Suzanne Seriff, eds. Recycled Re-Seen: Folk Art from the Global Scrap Heap, Harry N. Abrams, 1996. 25 Henry Jenkins, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide, New York University Press, 2008. 26 Henry Jenkins, “Welcome to Convergence Culture,” http://henryjenkins.org/2006/06/welcome_to_convergence_culture.html 27 See interview with Henry Jenkins in Scott A. Lukas, The Immersive Worlds Handbook: Designing Theme Park and Consumer Spaces, Focal Press, 2013, pp. 245-246. 28 See, Paul Rabinow, George E. Marcus, James Faubion and Tobias Rees, Designs for an Anthropology of the Contemporary, Duke University Press, 2008. 22 29 Scott A. Lukas, “From Themed Space to Lifespace,” in Judith Schlehe, Michiko Uike-Bormann, Carolyn Oesterle, and Wolfgang Hochbruck, eds. Themed Environments in Transcultural Perspective, Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010. 30 George E. Marcus, Ethnography through Thick and Thin, Princeton University Press, 1998, p. 86. 31 See http://www.americangirl.com/index.php 32 George E. Marcus and Michael M. J. Fischer, Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment in the Human Sciences, University of Chicago Press, 1999. 33 See, Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire, Harvard University Press, 2001; Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life, Stanford University Press, 1998; Stephen Duncombe, Dream: Re-imagining Progressive Politics in an Age of Fantasy, New Press, 2007; and Retort, Afflicted Powers: Capital and Spectacle in a New Age of War, Verso, 2005, as initial sources on some of these concerns. 34 Naomi Klein, Interview, The Persuaders, PBS Frontline, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/persuaders/interviews/klein.html For an interesting cultural analysis of Celebration, see, Andrew Ross, The Celebration Chronicles: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Property Value in Disney’s New Town, Ballantine Books, 2000. 35 For two interesting accounts of Starbucks, see Bryant Simon, Everything but the Coffee: Learning about America from Starbucks, University of California Press, 2011; Greg Dickinson, “Joe’s Rhetoric: Finding Authenticity at Starbucks,” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 32(4):2002. 36 Roland Barthes, Mythologies, Vintage, 1993. 37 For more on Gottwald’s work and his interesting Themerica project, see http://www.themerica.org/ 38 Clare O’Connor, “New App Lets You Boycott Koch Brothers, Monsanto and More By Scanning Your Shopping Cart,” Forbes, 14 May 2013, http://www.forbes.com/sites/clareoconnor/2013/05/14/new-app-lets-you-boycott-koch-brothers-monsanto-andmore-by-scanning-your-shopping-cart/ 39 Marcus, Ethnography through Thick and Thin, p. 108. 40 Scott A. Lukas, The Reflexive Threat, under development. 41 See Jay Ruby (ed.) A Crack in the Mirror: Reflexive Perspectives in Anthropology, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982. 42 Kenneth Gergen, Relational Being, Oxford University Press, 2009, p. xv. 43 Nicolas Bourriaud, Relational Aesthetics, Les Presse Du Reel, 1998. 44 Ibid, 113. 45 See interview with Henry Jenkins in Scott A. Lukas, The Immersive Worlds Handbook: Designing Theme Park and Consumer Spaces, Focal Press, 2013, pp. 245-246. 46 For a more practical look at the possibilities of transmedia storytelling, see Tom Dowd et. al. Storytelling Across Worlds: Transmedia for Creatives and Producers, Focal, 2013. 47 See Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Love: On the Frailty of Human Bonds, Polity, 2003; Liquid Life, Polity, 2005; Liquid Fear, Polity, 2006; Liquid Times: Living in an Age of Uncertainty, Polity, 2006; and Culture in a Liquid Modern World, Polity, 2011, among other titles. 48 See Joan Rothfuss et. al. In the Spirit of Fluxus, Distributed Art Pub Inc, 1993. 49 For a specific set of readings, consult B. Joseph Pine & James H. Gilmore, Authenticity: What Consumers Really Want, Harvard Business School Press, 2007; Theodor Adorno, The Jargon of Authenticity, Routledge, 2002; Marshall Berman, The Politics of Authenticity: Radical Individualism and the Emergence of Modern Society, Verso, 2009; David Boyle, Authenticity: Brands, Fakes, Spin and the Lust for Real Life, Harper Perennial, 2006; Charles B. Guignon, On Being Authentic, Routledge, 2004; Scott A. Lukas, “Chapter 4: Authenticity, Believability, Realism,” The Immersive Worlds Handbook: Designing Theme Parks and Consumer Spaces, Focal, 2012; Miles Orvell The Real Thing: Imitation and Authenticity in American Culture, 1880-1940, The University of North Carolina Press, 1989; Andrew Potter, The Authenticity Hoax: How We Get Lost Finding Ourselves, Harper, 2010; Jean-Paul Sartre, Being And Nothingness: An Essay in Phenomenological Ontology, Citadel, 2001; Charles Taylor, The Ethics of Authenticity, Harvard, 1992; Phillip Vannini and J. Patrick Williams, Authenticity in Culture, Self, and Society, Ashgate, 2009; Richard Todd, The Thing Itself: On the Search for Authenticity, Riverhead Trade, 2009; and Lionel Trilling, Sincerity and Authenticity, Harvard, 1972. 50 For a brief discussion of this case see, Scott A. Lukas, “Anthropology in a Simulation World: When Fieldwork Engages Pop Culture,” Anthropology News, January 2009, http://www.academia.edu/273940/Anthropology_in_a_Simulation_World_When_Fieldwork_Engages_Pop_Culture 51 Anthropologist Stephen A. Tyler was particularly adept in his suggestions of the role that the middle voice could play in contemporary anthropology. Stephen A. Tyler, “The Middle Voice: The Influence of Post-Modernism on Empirical Research in Anthropology,” In Post-Modernism and Anthropology, Karin Geuijen, Diederick Raven and Jan de Wolf, eds. Van Gorcum, 1995. 52 Scott A. Lukas, “A Discursive Object of Intervention: Envisioning an Avant-Garde of Consultancy,” Paper presented at Intervention Workshop, University of Aarhus, Copenhagen, Denmark, October 4-7, 2012. 53 Scott A. Lukas, “I [Heart] Power,” http://www.scottlukas.com/page4/page13/index.html 54 Victor Turner, “Betwixt and Between: The Liminal Period in Rites de Passage.” in The Forest of Symbols, Cornell University Press, 1967. 23 55 Stephen A. Tyler, The Unspeakable: Discourse, Dialogue, and Rhetoric in the Postmodern World, University of Wisconsin Press, 1987. 24