Memory versus Media

In an epic battle for how we view, and ultimately use, space -- we have memory versus media. As visionary Marshal McLuhan stated in his 1960's interview, media can have a broad application "from clothes to computers" and it "exerts a compelling influence on man and society". I don't think anyone would hesitate to espouse the importance of media in this digital age of saturation; from Twitter to all night parties celebrating the new princess Kate Middleton, as she flashes a winning grin and a style that sells a thousand dresses from halfway around the world. I have to admit this interview made me kind of defensive at first. His attack on the phonetic alphabet and print media as the undoing of man's true embodied spirit. It just rings a little falsely since he was living in the suburbs of Canada. However, as I went on, despite some really revolutionary theories that have me questioning his chemical imbibing, he has an optimistic outlook on the future filled with wonder and awe; that's something I can always respect. But I digress, on to the market.

It's interesting to think about the Ballard Farmer's Market in terms of media. After all, it is in many ways on the low tech end of production of space. As we saw in my previous post though, we use cameras to capture it often times and thus reproduce the space both in a virtual way and in our own memory. Therefore, like Stuart Hall says in his article "Encoding/Decoding", the people who are involved with the market are constantly in the process of producing the space as both sender and receiver. It is not as clear cut as say, someone watching television but there is active participation and message sending just the same. In Benedict Anderson's "Imagined Communities", I was struck by a word I didn't recognize: Sodality. When I looked it up, it turned out to have quite a bit of synchronicity with my conceptualization of the market. It means a non-kin group organized for a specific purpose. Perfect description. I also felt the idea of imagining ties in well with the joint concepts of memory and media. In a way, anything past the exact moment we see it and receive the signals of information is being "imagined" through our memory and with media we fill in the blanks. Like McLuhan's description of hot versus cold media depending on how active our participation.

The market is a unique case because, as you will see from my interview, it can be as active or as passive as you want. It is what you make of it. I also want to broach the subject of the media website dedicated to the town that disappeared, Pinepoint. I was blown away by this particular project. I didn't expect to be as I simply clicked on the link after arriving home on a Friday night. At first it seemed like a combination between Napoleon Dynamite and that website "Awkward Family Photos", but then I found it to be incredibly poignant and beautiful. The idea of a place being "fixed in amber" of the memory forever, which may actually make it something all together different from what it really was; a perfect place you can go back to anytime but only in your mind. Nostalgia is a gift for the ever growing temporal awareness of humanity. Also, the concept that someone, i.e. Richard, can be a keeper of that place and time through his media efforts ties right in to our theme. As we saw with my post last week, many people are the keepers of memory for the market. I wonder how the market of their memory compares to the reality? How does this compare to the concept put forth by the media? For this, I have used my own media investigation of the promotional website the market uses and an interview with my good friend and neighbor Wendy (she is a self-employed caterer who visits the market at least twice a month).

First, how the market hopes to be seen by potential participants:

http://www.fremontmarket.com/ballardwelcome.html

Next, how Wendy sees the market:

OBSERVATIONS and MY THOUGHTS...It's like Spring, sprinkling rain, 50 degree temps and a strong wind that sets the tent canopies in perpetual motion. Soundtrack of the day: An old song that keeps playing in my head mixes with the subdued mood of the market, a building peak of ambient noise: Shouted directions, laughter, engines starting, clanging of supplies, birdsong and an airplane overhead. There are no musicians there yet. In this early time just before the market begins it is the perfect semi-blank canvas to mix media and memory. I notice that the tents must have assigned spots because I've begun to notice where some of the same vendors are located week after week. There is the lady with the beautiful, small golden candles with spring green or vibrant purple tops. I remember a day several years ago when my husband Fred and I impulsively purchased several after we had cleaned up our apartment and headed to the market. Perhaps my eye seeks her out because of this memory. If you look at the website above as a media tool in how the market portrays itself, it presents a glowing vision of bright, happy days filled with color. Despite Seattle's weather patterns, most of the past media samples I have encountered are from perfect days and when the market is in full bloom. It's interesting that the behind the scenes aspect, that I have had the chance to view isn't usually shown. Especially because my neighbor Wendy particularly enjoyed the implications of hard work and the familial aspect of certain vendors; something you don't always visually see during the market. Being a caterer, her position would allow her a more intimate and understanding connection of the work they do though.

As I'm struck by the composure and order of the structures, the vans, the variety of goods -- everything seems to be in its right place or getting there -- I'm struck once again by memory. Memory has both plagued and enchanted me this weekend. Most likely because we have an out of town guest my husband has known for twenty years and I have known for ten. It's almost as if this has kick started a waterfall of memories, most are specific to the place we all previously lived in, LA. Farmer's markets are huge down there (the weather helps) and I can think of one in the heart of Hollywood that we went to sometimes (when we got up in time). The main thing that stands out to me are the tamales. I wonder how I will remember the Ballard market? Will it be in flashes of memory, color, sense of smell (the most active sense memory)? As I'm leaving I run into Loretta, directing vendors and solving problems, I smile and say "Hi" -- I guess I'm becoming a part of the memory of the market (and the media) too.

Encounter the Block

In the movie "Attack the Block", the space inhabited by the teenage protagonists becomes vitally important on many levels, especially once under literal threat from outer space, their familiarity with the built environment and pride towards saving their "home" saves the day. It's all about the way they see and use their block.

It may not be a life and death scenario, such as mutant monkey creatures from another planet, but the locations that map the social and cultural context of our lives do provide an important element to our society and for our identity as well. As Massey noted, space is defined by human relations and is always in flux. Last week, I touched on how the block long Ballard Avenue is transformed for the farmer's market. This week, I'd like to delve further into how the spatial actors make the location their own -- through commentary, observation and past visual documentation of the area.

OBSERVATIONS and MY THOUGHTS...Sunday. Chilly rain mists the air separating the dedicated from the seasonal visitor. The Soundtrack: Michael and John play beautiful Americana songs on guitar. This duo ignores the raindrops and delivers soaring harmonies to the melancholy sky. They are the only musicians so far. I praise their dedication and ask them why, why do they like to come out to the Ballard farmer's market and play music? The answer, so artful in its zen simplicity: "What else are we going to do?" They continue and explain that the market strikes a nice balance between a place to rehearse and to connect with people. Being a musician myself, and someone who has busked (played on the street), I fully understand how tough and how rewarding it can be at the same time. A sidewalk is transformed into a mini-stage with an ever-roaming audience on the same spatial level. This is one way to understand the utilization of the environment and feel its atmosphere.

I observe a distinctive flow to the human current. Since the structural element of the tents are set up in an almost middle location (slightly closer to one side) there is a narrower sidewalk on one side and a wider throughway on the other. This creates a circular movement around the tents (with stops for particularly eye-catching goods of course). It is contextualized within a historic business district but the signs and the tents organize a visual cue to entice the casual passerby in for their own encounter of the block. The street layout encourages strolling and I observed many groups involved in social interaction (although whether they were neighbors, distant cousins or long lost sweethearts, my casual observation could not elucidate). In these ways the streets, signs and tents act as non-human artifacts designed to give us social clues as to how to behave, much like Bruno Latour's discussion of seat belts and doors. In this case, however, you most likely won't be labeled immoral for standing on the vendor's side of a tent but you will undoubtedly be given a choice of leaving or working. Focault's idea of self-policing, within his concept of panopticism, is at play with the underlying understanding of who should go where and do what. It doesn't seem nearly as extreme in this environment though without hidden cameras, police or even security. I'd say here it is more like an extended version of the honor system. This set up of the tents creates a dichotomy between vendor and consumer but the power dynamic is very interesting. Due to the nature of the relationship, the purchaser ultimately affects the success of the day. Therefore, the vendors create a feast for the senses akin to theater with their brightly colored goods, aromatic scents and ongoing patter offering samples. Community comes to mind, the market is a gathering place for kids (of all ages), dogs and red wagons or carts of all shapes and sizes. This moves it beyond the simple necessity of a space organized for consumption. It's as much about entertainment and interaction as it is buying commodities.

The market fulfills a myriad of functions for many different participants.

Judy, the market manager, puts it perfectly, "We take a bare street and make a community gathering spot like a magic mushroom and it all disappears at 5pm."

Devra Gartenstein from the Patty Pan Grill (www.pattypangrill.com and www.quirkygourmet.com) got in at the ground level. She has been serving prepared food there since 1997. Farmer's markets work the best for her and are her main business. (Subjectivity note: I had a delicious bean & chile tamale with grilled vegetables at her stand before we talked.)

Rita (and Chuck) (a lovely couple walking through the market who didn't run immediately upon my accosting them with my question) said the market for them was "local, organic produce you can walk to".

Now for the especially fun part, a visual menagerie of how people see and use the market through their own personal lens (literally, the pictures are courtesy of several wonderful photographers at Flickr). One person saw the elegance in crowd dynamics (Camelama - top picture on the left), another picked up on individuals with unique personas (balcony girl -- right hand side), a third created a visual feast for the eyes (Keesha Davis - www.keeshadavis.com - middle on the left) and our last one followed the syncopation on the breeze (Mary Wit - bottom left). Subjectivity Note: I know one of the musicians in Mary Wit's photo for Snake Suspenders -- Howlin' Hobbitt -- he's a ukelele player and a cool guy. Thank you all for your contribution towards the production of space at the Ballard farmer's market. Maybe I'll see you there sometime...

The Ultimate Ephemeral Production of Space

Yesterday, I was inspired to go on an adventure to Ballard Avenue. The light in the sky was still twilight. Snow fell softly creating a stillness. Weather had transformed the location of the Sunday market to a place both foreign and familiar at the same time. This viewpoint is from the same spot I've taken two pictures showing the usual entrance to the market. Now, there is no hint of the market, as if it never existed, except in the fleeting environs of memory. It is the ultimate ephemeral production of space. I decided to add my own little piece of subjectivity -- a snow angel.

Before and After -- The Transformation of Ballard Ave

Every Sunday a transformation occurs on a block long historical district in the heart of Ballard. Empty street becomes commercial space. Sidewalks blossom with supplies and then shoppers. There is commotion, activity, sensory stimulation all experienced differently by visitors and vendors. Just as Christian Norberg-Schultz suggested in his article "The Phenomenon of Place", the very character of the space, it's atmosphere, can change with the time of day, light or season -- the farmer's market brings a drastic change to the identity of this particular geographic location. It is imbued with new meaning for the community. The very cyclical nature of the transformation implies that space is not static. As Doreen Massey commented in her "Philosophy and the Politics of Spatiality", it is "always in the process of becoming; it is always being made." I've purposely not labeled the slideshow pictures so that any viewer can read based on their own personal lens the transformation of the location. My interpretation is a series of shots comparing concrete physical locations before and then during the setup of the market. This plays very much into Mark Curran's idea of space as ephemeral. I wish I could capture the imagery and background sounds like the media creators did for www.theplaceswelive.com, however, unlike that documentation I want to insert my own subject position. In the picture showing the brick walls and gravel lot I've played with the idea of subjectivity wherein I've literally inserted myself (via my shadow) into the environment. In the places we live project, I imagine the distance was necessary when dealing with tragic situations such as the family in Venezuela who couldn't leave their home for fear of violent reprisal.

OBSERVATIONS and MY THOUGHTS...A block long urban environment with historical buildings on either side. A cold gray strip of asphalt, concrete sidewalks, structures house businesses with features out of stone, brick and wood. Trees are planted in a line on the sidewalk, their bare branches testament to the current season. Both of my visits to the environment brought back a flood of memories for me like a sudden flash of connection from my senses. In this space I've experienced dinners with friends, Christmas present shopping, late nights at the bars with out-of-town guests and, of course, my own farmer's market trips. My first time of observation was on a Wednesday night (1/11) and the environment was fairly sparse and open. Most people utilizing the space were within the businesses. My follow up visit for comparison was on Sunday (1/15) when I chose to investigate the transformation of the space as the vendors were setting up. Now two signs, "Ballard Farmer's Market", create literal boundaries for the space (you can view an example in the picture slide show). They tell any observer that this place is designated for a special purpose. The street has now been closed to auto traffic except for those vehicles dropping off goods for the vendors. One side of the street has sprouted white temporary tents all creating their own little environment filled with tables, multi-colored table clothes, crates, coolers, boxes, vegetables, soap, fruit, pies, cheese, produce etc. Every booth is stacking, organizing and creatively evolving their precise corner of the street. Like the "Out My Window" project each similarly structured space has a different story to tell and sensory experience to offer. In the doorway of one business an older man with a beard sits bundled against the cold getting ready to sell his newspapers. It makes you wonder about his particular life story -- maybe he loves music and tradition like Amchok in Toronto or maybe he has lived through horror stories like the family in Johannesburg. An Information booth has been set up with stacks of paper, supplies and details at the south end of the street. I feel a bit like an interloper amongst the hub of ongoing activity so I introduce myself to Loretta at the booth. I relax a little bit and take in more details. Across the expanse of street the supply vehicles line up -- vans and pickup trucks, loading and unloading. In an open gravel lot, ringed by brick walls a lone vendor for Veraci Pizza has set up his mobile wood burning oven. It is a perfect example of how the distinction between inside and outside is blurred here. At another booth for perishables, whole cold cases have been set up. The sensory experience of the space is incredible, comparable to a medieval fair. At one point music begins blaring from unseen speakers adding a festive mood. Many workers hum and sing to themselves; the occasional seagull calls from above. The smell of wood smoke, cooking food and an earthy scent of vegetables mingle into a joyful melange. It is a hive of activity that builds as we get closer to opening. I can't help but be caught up in the exciting anticipation of the event, especially as it begins to snow. The vendors worry or laugh and finalize their displays -- the show must go on.

Let's start at the beginning...

So here it is another January morning in Seattle and I'm settled into one of my favorite spots on campus -- the Paul Allen Engineering Building -- not because I've actually ever taken an engineering class but because it looks like a more Utopian vision of Blade Runner (plus the bagels are good). It's kind of appropriate to start with an introduction of space I use since that's what this blog will be all about -- space, the final frontier (yes, that joke never gets old). In all seriousness I will be investigating through media ethnography how people in my little 'hood of Ballard inhabit and use space.
Perhaps the best place to start is with a little rundown on who I am the "long story short" version. I'm a 34 year old returning student at UW majoring in CHID and minoring in history. I'm an actress, singer, history buff, avid reader, cinema lover and future documentary filmmaker (hopefully the not too distant future!). I'm an identical twin and I've done everything from working an international film market in Milan, to studying Shakespeare in Oxford, to working in International Theatrical Acquisitions (that's a fancy title for copying lots of legal documents on global blockbusters like, say, Alien vs. Predator) at 20th Century Fox and I'm currently a Seattle Underground Tour Guide. I'm looking forward to the journey we'll be taking.