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Proving Plutarch Prescient
The immediate and superficial response would be to declare the question ludicrous. After all, (free) tickets now routinely “sell out” in a matter of minutes. Demand for the last one or two PKNYYC events has actually overwhelmed servers. So if sheer popularity is the only measure, the answer to the question is immediate dismissmal.
But surely popularity is not the only measure. I’ve been attending the local PKN events going back to #6 in November of 2010 (with a couple of misses along the way). Unfortunately, I have to say that PKNYYC#14 may well have been the last one I will attend. It was profoundly disappointing. Basically, it amounted to nothing more than a mutual admiration society among the “cool kids” in town and an orgy of Twitterati self-congratulation. I’m trying not to call it a (T)wankfest, but the temptation is hard to resist.
When the best presentation (by far!) has precious little to do with the stated theme of the event; when the second-best presentation is a last-minute “what I did on my summer vacation” substitute (albeit fun and thematically relevant—perhaps the most thematically relevant of all, which is a sad commentary in its own right on those who had much more time to prepare); and when the remaining 8 presentations are lackluster at best and downright lousy at worst, the only possible conclusion is to give the event a 1.5 out of 10—a failing grade by any measure.
We got a “purpose-driven life” derivative (albeit with pretty pictures), several cringe-worthy “personal stories” (more than one of which was nothing more than shameless self-promotion (and even corporate promotion)), and a couple of “institutional” presentations (which may have had some decent content but were sadly lacking in, shall we say, panache). That’s it?!?
Rigorously examined from the perspectives of form and content, then, PechaKucha Night Calgary #14 can only be classified as an extremely disappointing event. If it were to be “reviewed” by a “critic” and subjected to the same standards of expectation and scrutiny as a film, play, concert, dance piece, or any other performance, it would have to be panned mercilessly.
As a social event, it’s fantastic! I’m on the periphery, but some of the folks I’ve just said harsh things about are at least acquaintances, if not friends (or even relations). But sometimes you have to have frank conversations with the people in your life, right?
I have been harboring some concerns about the Calgary PKN events for a while, but I’ve been keeping them to myself, figuring that it must be “just me”, since everybody else (both in meatspace and in the Twitterverse) is consistently full of nothing but gushing and lavish praise. But even if it is just me, I can hold my tongue no more.
Like TED before it, PKN’s initial focus was essentially on technology, art, and design. Remember—PKN was launched (almost exactly a decade ago) by architects in Tokyo in an attempt to draw people to an experimental event space. The content was largely focused on design. The form was witty, clever, and a critique of (or metadiscursive meditation upon) the ubiquitous and banal “PowerPoint presentation”—the acknowledged bane of all humanity.
The decision to create (the now institutionalized and increasingly banal) “20 slides, 20 seconds, auto-advance” structure was inherently a commentary on PowerPoint and the “typical” form and content of agonizing presentations—the kind we have all had to both make and endure. It was a design or artistic practice. It also had a certain formal and cultural resonance with the Japanese social, cultural, artistic, and technological context in which it was launched.
But now that thousands of PKN events have been held in almost 600 cities around the world, it has become an institutionalized structure. The artistic or design intentionality is long gone, replaced by codified ritual and Beaudrillardian simulacrum (how’s them for fancy words?!?). It’s like going to Benihana instead of Sukiyabashi Jiro or even some little hole in the wall in Tokyo. PKN has become as bland and boring as any other PowerPoint presentation (in fact, its principles have permeated into PowerPoint “culture” at large, I would also argue).
To the point, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anybody do anything innovative or creative with either the form or content of a PKN “presentation”. Speakers are more or less animated and engaging. They are more or less text-bound. They are more or less able to stay in sync with their “slides”. But when was the last time somebody did anything truly “performative”?
Slides are more or less “pretty”—but they’re all pretty darn static. The occasional text box flies or dissolves in or out—oooh, ahhh. When was the last time somebody did something that actually interrogated the actual medium of PowerPoint or deployed it creatively in any way, shape, or form?
In the same way that TV news is merely illustrated radio (try this at home kids—watch the news once with the picture on and the sound off, then once more with the sound on and the picture off, and think about which one still lets you get the gist of the story), PKN talks are now nothing more or less than illustrated mini-lectures. (I actually did the “TV news” experiment at PKNYYC#14, and my hypothesis was confirmed.) Yes, there’s the occasional “funny” slide that’s supposed to “speak for itself”—but even that minuscule bit of cleverness is all too rare.
Also like TED before it, PKN has suffered from a certain dilution of the original premise as it has both aged and spread around the world. TED itself continues (more or less…and increasingly less) to hew fairly closely to its original premise of concentrating on technology, entertainment, and design. TEDx events, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. I have attended both TEDxCalgary and TEDxYYC events, and in both cases walked away wondering what they possibly had to do with the “TED concept” other than in name only.
Perhaps a certain amount of dilution is inevitable as the TEDs and PKNs of the world proliferate. Perhaps a certain ossification is inevitable as they “mature” (i.e. age) and become institutions. There is absolutely no doubt that local TEDx and PKN events take on the character of the cities where they take place—and I fully support that “localization”. But there’s absolutely no reason that TEDx and/or PKN events should devolve into bland, banal, feckless, and potentially irrelevant quasi-events.
To return to the original “jumping the shark” question, it’s interesting to note that PKNYYC#15 will be an “All-Stars” format. All I will say to that is that we need only to look at the world of (reality) television (viz. “Dancing With the Stars” (coincidentally in “Season 15”) et al.) to know what the “All-Stars” ploy prefigures.
Before I proceed, let me say that I did initially try to submit this diatribe privately to the organizers of PKNYYC, but that proved to be rather difficult. The Feedback tab on the home page for PKNYYC only directs the user to a generic forum. The “about” page on the Calgary Culture website also provides a handy-dandy link to the generic “contact” page for CADA. But nowhere is there any specific information about the actual person(s) responsible for planning, organizing, and executing PKNYYC events—no names, no email addresses, no nothing.
Herewith, then, are my unsolicited (and probably unwelcome) suggestions in the form of a fabulous “Five Point Plan” to rescue PKNYYC, even though sheer popularity would suggest it needs no intervention and that I should summarily and forthwith piss off:
I adore the basic premises and potentials of PKN and TED/TEDx. But the realities are increasingly disappointing. I don’t expect the best sushi in the world, but I do hope for good sushi and not just a Benihana simulacrum.
First things first, at this “festive” time of year, I’m with Ricky Gervais.
Now that we have that out of the way, and at least somewhat in the spirit of the season, here’s my trinity of favorite Christmas songs:
#3–“Christmas in Prison”, by John Prine
#2–“Christmas Must Be Tonight” by The Band
#1–“Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues (with Kirsty McColl)
And a bonus for any Tom Waits fan who stumbles across this blog by happenstance.
And to all a good night.
Welcome to Vox Et Praeterea Nihil. The insufferably pretentious name comes from Greek historian and essayist Plutarch. More specifically, it comes from item 15 of the “Various Sayings of Spartans to Fame Unknown” (Apophthegmata Laconica, for all the Latin fans). This in turn can be found in Essay 16 in Volume 3 of the Moralia. The generally accepted literal English translation is, “A man plucked a nightingale and finding almost no meat, said, ‘It’s all voice ye are, and nought else'” (“vox et praeterea nihil”). The generally accepted interpretive meaning is something like, “The nightingale talks or sings a lot–and beautifully–but ultimately offers very little for consumption”. It may be pleasant or even charming to listen to in the moment, but ultimately there really isn’t much substance to it at all. Or, to distill it even further, it’s full of empty blather.
And isn’t that what most blogs–including, in all likelihood, this one–are? A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square, indeed.
I am very much a latecomer to the world of blogs, blogging, social media, etc. In fact, I have been deeply cynical about and resistant to this entire universe. So why start now? The answer to that question is not yet fully formulated in my own mind. Perhaps it will emerge autochthonously as this blog continues–if it does. There is no comprehensive theme or purpose for this blog. It will be a somewhat random and motley collection of posts reflecting my interests in politics, current affairs, culture, science, and whatnot. Think of it, if you will, as a modern-day virtual Wunderkammer. (I’m a big fan of the Museum of Jurassic Technology and the book about it.)