No, but really, what does it all mean?

These past couple of days I haven't been able to think about much else other than what exactly it is that I want to explore in this blog and, consequently, in the meetup I've started.

At the intersection of arts, culture and technology there exists a wide array of possibilities for integration and collaboration. There are many talented artists out there using technology to create amazing digital art, blurring the line between what constitutes art and what constitutes...well, a cool computer program, for instance. I am fascinated and awed by people with that kind of imagination and creativity, but, truth be told, they were not my intended audience--neither for this blog, nor for the meetup.

I don't want to exclude anyone from the conversation I am intending on initiating with both these projects, but I don't want to have the conversation veer off course and take on a life of its own, either. What interests me about the possibilities of integrating arts and technology in new and interesting ways is the opportunity this affords to help people experience and understand the arts in ways that were previously impossible. Democratizing the arts, or more specifically, increasing the access to and accessability of the arts is what is at the heart of my projects.

I've spent the past two Sundays at the MoMA, each time with very different company--first it was my 12-year-old sister and 14-year-old cousin, then it was my 70-year-old grandparents. As can be expected, their reactions to the works we saw and level of interest varied a bit. The kids, of course, sulked about the museum and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. When asked why they were having such a miserable time at the museum, my cousin replied, "It's just so boring--I don't see the point of going to museums. If I wanted to see paintings, I could look them up on the internet." (A sentiment which may warrant it's own blog post to fully explore). But as different as the experiences were, the one thing they had in common was a need for understanding, for context, for explanations.

My grandparents aggravated me to no end at the Miro exhibition. They kept asking me to explain what the paintings meant, or speculating on what the artist must have been thinking. What, exactly, was old Joan trying to communicate by attaching a segment of rope to his canvas and splattering it with black paint? What were the weird and trippy little figurines meant to convey? What was this man thinking? What was the philosophy behind his work? They wanted to KNOW, and they wanted to know right then and there, and they didn't care about the fact that I simply didn't have any answers.

Regardless of whether you're of the school of thought that art is meant to be subjective or the school of thought that art is meant to communicate the artist's unique point of view, I think people will always be curious about what the artist was thinking when he or she created a piece of art. It's one of the most common questions I hear people asking when they're standing in front of a painting, particularly if they don't get it. Adding context helps people develop a sense of appreciation. I sure as hell didn't get what the big deal about Marcel Duchamp and his urinal was the first time I ever saw a photo of it and couldn't fathom, for the life of me, WHY this man had gone down in the art history books.

Which brings me back to the Brooklyn Museum (oh yes, the Brooklyn again...you'll be hearing about them quite a bit). They recently just installed iPod touches into an exhibition called Burning Down the House: Building A Feminist Art Collection. The iPods play video of the artists explaining their work, their process, their philosophy, and so forth. The videos themselves are intimate and personal, they fairly low-fi as they were shot on the cheap with another innovation in tech simplicity--the Flip camera.

What a novel idea! Why don't more museums do things like this?

I guess my very circuitous point is this: my interest lies more in using technology to add context and deepen people's understanding (and by extension, appreciation) of the cultural works they're interacting with, to gain a better understanding of HOW people are interacting with those works, and to extend their experience beyond the museum visit, or the play, or the concert or what have you. It doesn't necessarily end there, but that's what's captured my attention for the time being, and as long as that's the case, perhaps I should refine the focus of my projects accordingly.

I Gots Me a Meetup!

So...I started a meetup group yesterday. Well, technically I started it last Friday and it went public yesterday morning, but who really cares about technicalities, right? It, like this blog, is focused on exploring the interesection of Arts, Culture & Techonolgy (seeing a pattern here?).

To be honest, I didn't really anticipate much of a draw for my little group. To me, it seemed like it would be way too niche to appeal to any more than a handful of people, so my goals were pretty modest--amass maybe 20-30 members in the first month and maybe a group of 10 or so for the first meetup (scheduled for Thursday, January 15th at Art Bar, if you're interested).

Boy, was I wrong.

Since yesterday morning 57 members have joined the group, 22 RSVP'd Yes for the event, and 14 Maybe. I'm not sure if this is a typical response for groups on meetup, but judging from the reaction I've received from the Meetup staff, my guess is no. And the best part is,the group just keeps on growing! It's making it difficult to focus on anything else in my haze of giddy excitement. Every time my phone buzzes with another meetup member notification, I drop what I'm doing and go to the group's page to check out my newest cohort.

Reading people's responses to the profile questions I added--"What interests you about this group? What do you hope to get out of it?"--has been incredibly interesting and inspiring, too. Here is just a brief sampling:

“media artist, performer, social entrepreneur, skydiver. Things I find tasty: networked performance, motion capture / movement-based, sensor-driven synthesis, performance in virtual environments like Second Life. http://funksoup.com/bio.htm”

"I'm still loving the web and started out as an artist/writer so I'm completely fascinated by the prospect of bringing my major romances together."

"I'm an artist with a psychology and science background. As a modern Zen practioner I enjoy turning analog paintings into digitally reworked pieces.That an art piece can exist as only as wall paper s fine with me.I'm not a techology expert. I'm interested in art,technology and recreating a subculture that is anti-nihlistic,although many plunge into darkness during these 'interesting times'."

"have an arsenal of paintings and can't seem to get past the velvet rope of the art world mafia."

"I am a consultant who works in the media, entertainment, and technology sectors -- I joined for the great networking opportunity."

"I'm a technology guy interested in the arts, and applying technologies there (specifically mobile technologies)."

I'm really excited to see that my group, and more specifically, my curiosity, has brought together such a diverse and interesting bunch of people working in every facet of the arts-technology spectrum. I can't wait to meet them and for them to meet one another, start up a discussion, maybe start some collaborations, and to see what sorts of innovative projects come out of those relationships.

But, to be honest, I'm also a little terrified. Could this diversity make the group too unfocused to ever become a cohesive community? What is my role, as organizer, in shaping and guiding the group? How much influence and control should I be weilding here? Or should I just open it up to the masses and see what happens?

I've never organized anything in my life. I have initiative, don't get me wrong, but I'm more of a joiner than a starter. I'm not 100% sure what's going to be expected of me here, and how much I should or can consider this group as my own. Initially, I started it asa vehicle for exploring my interests and connecting with people who have similar interests with the purpose of connecting them to one another and listening in on the discussion that ensues. But at what point does the group cease to be a product of the organizer and take on a life of its own?...And is it appropriate for me to be having these questions before I even host the first meetup? Did I mention I have a tendency to over-think things?

Twitter and Ice Skating at the Natural History Museum

In the past week or so, I've been doing a lot of research and exploration on the subject of how arts and culture are represented online. Mostly I've been focusing on museums and the kinds of presence they have on social networks. My lifelong dream of being Facebook buddies with MoMA can now become a reality.

In any case, I spend a lot of time on Twitter, so one of the first things I did was start following every museum I could find and seeing what their tweets looked like. I then checked out their websites, whether they had their art collections up online (in full or in part), whether they had a presence on Flickr, Facebook, or a YouTube channel, etc.

I didn't really approach the task with any predetermined idea of what the museums should be doing, more so a curiosity for what sorts of social media tools they embraced and how they used them. I was pleasantly surprised to find that most of the major U.S. museums have a pretty healthy social media presence, and in the bunch, there are some standouts doing VERY interesting things with Facebook apps and Twitter accounts (the Brooklyn Museum being a notable example--they really blew me away. BM, I <3 you.).

But on the whole, it seemed to me that the majority are missing the point of social media entirely. It's not enough to have an RSS feed upload stale and impersonal blog posts to your Twitter (ahem, I'm looking at you, Tate), and it seems to me that when your business is art, using your Flickr account exclusively for posting your party pics is a guaranteed way to ensure that nobody will care about or engage with any of the content you post there. Meanwhile, Flickr groups dedicated to the museum's art exhibitions and collections were largely ignored by the museum itself. Come on guys, get with the program!

My favorite interaction of the week occured via Twitter with the American Museum of Natural History. This was actually not one of the museums I found and followed on my own, rather, they found me and I followed them back (nice work, guys!). One of the first tweets I saw the AMNH post was about their Polar Rink and the 17-foot-tall Polar Bear that sits in the middle of the rink.

It was a cute and fun tweet and caught me by surprise--I had no idea that the AMNH had a rink. You mean, I could go to the museum AND skate there? With a polar bear? How awesome is that?! Intrigued, I replied to their tweet and inquired about ice-skating. And here's my favorite part: they replied within minutes. 

I was so pleased that they responded to me--and so promptly, too!--that I promised I'd visit and go ice-skating there soon. And the thing is, I really DO plan on visiting now. Prior to this interaction, the AMNH was not on my list of things to do, but ice-skating was. Finding out that they have a rink there means I can kill two birds with one stone--go check out some dinosaur bones and then take a quick loop around the rink--my idea of an ideal Saturday afternoon.

Granted, I may have decided to visit regardless of whether they replied to my tweet, but the fact that they did just made me commit to visiting that much more. It effectively got me excited about a museum that I previously had no interest or intention of going to. And THAT is what most of these museums are missing.

Now, I realize it's unrealistic for museum staff to spend their time on Twitter replying to every single person that sends a tweet their way. They probably don't want to or need to convert fans one person at a time, but the ones that do take this personal approach have the potential to convert people into extremely loyal fans by showing that they care about their visitors, are interested in what they have to say and are willing to take the time to engage in one-on-one interactions with them (which are, of course, broadcast for all the world to see).

And that, to me, is just so damn cool. So, hats off to you, AMNH. I'll be seeing you soon and skating around your polar bear rink. In the meantime, keep rocking on Twitter. I'll be looking forward to your tweets.

{Ahem} Testing. Testing. 123.

Let me start with full disclosure: I’m a writer by trade (or so I fancy myself) but after graduating with a degree in magazine journalism, I found myself working for an internet startup and reluctantly coming to love it. My foray into the world of online media has made me reevaluate the way we communicate and exchange information and, for better or worse, has changed my writing style, and the way in which I find and consume content on the internet. More importantly though, I’ve developed a keen interest in social media, so much so, that I’ve transitioned my primary tasks at work from content management to social media marketing.

I’m still a newbie to the field and have a lot to learn, but I’m lucky enough to have made some awesome friends in the tech community who are much smarter and more experienced than I, and who graciously help and guide me along, all the while constantly reminding me to trust my instincts because nobody has this down to a science yet. Still, being a social media dilettante, I often find myself encountered with a host of questions about the nature of these new tools of conversation and how they can (or should?) be applied for different types of businesses, products, and audiences.

I guess that’s part of the impetus behind this blog: to be an outpost for my thoughts, musings, comments and questions on all the social media research I’m doing (mostly for fun, if you can believe it!). My hope is that by getting my thoughts down on paper I’ll be able to think about all the great information I’m collecting more analytically instead of accepting everything at face value, and that by engaging in the ongoing discussion I’ve been observing the past couple of months, I can gain an even better understanding of how to leverage social media in my job, life, etc.

Ideally, I’d like to marry this little pet project with some sort of element of the creative. That’s the thing I miss most about writing articles. I used to report mostly on arts and culture and over the seven or so years I wrote (semi) professionally, I covered everything from punk bands, to independent filmmakers, to alternative comedians, to vinyl art toy designers. My favorite part of any article was the research phase—I loved delving into a new and unfamiliar subject matter, meeting the people who were doing new and exciting things in that field, hearing their stories, finding out what motivates and inspires them—it was fascinating and exhilarating work. The actual writing part was more a vehicle for discovery than actual passion. In fact, writing was always sort of agonizing for me, and still is. I was always too self-conscious about my writing abilities to let myself enjoy the writing process (as most writers are, I’ve come to learn).

On the whole, I’m kind of glad I ended up not going the magazine publishing route, at least for the time being. The state of publishing at the moment is a little too precarious for my neurotic tastes. I like my current job, especially now that I’m doing social media strategy full-time. I like the challenge of figuring out creative new ways to utilize these technologies, how to speak to the finicky teenage demographic I am charged with reaching out to, but most of all I love the process of interacting with new people, building relationships, exchanging information and developing a dialogue. There’s only one thing missing: inspiration. I can’t help feeling a bit under-stimulated creatively. I, like everyone else in this day age, want a job that will feed my soul as well as my bank account.

So, I guess this blog is sort of an experiment in how to integrate arts, culture and social media in my quest to find what I imagine to be the ideal job, or at the very least, a fulfilling hobby. Wish. Me. Luck.