“And Now I’m Doing the Same Thing”

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So last night we saw the first Jon Brion show at the Coronet Theater. Despite a few familiar flourishes, this venue is no Largo redux. I came craving honey chicken and ended up with some pre-show Vito’s (which I think will be a necessary pre-show ritual from now on).

I’ve seen Jon’s shows fairly regularly for the past six years; I can comfortably say I’ve probably sat through no less than 50 of his shows (a modest estimate, truthfully). I’ve seen him at his worst and I’ve seen him at his best (and, in the case of the Thursday after Elliott Smith’s death, both his best and worst simultaneously). Last night was an appropriate, middle of the road Jon show – his usual mind blowing bas of musical genius in full display.

I’m sure there will be numerous accounts of last night’s show, so just a few thoughts:

– I’ve made official Largo at the Coronet History: I had the first Jon Brion request at his new venue. Granted his version of Baba O’Riley started our as a silly ragtime medley before launching into piano-mad vivaciousness, but it’s always fun to see him try a new and unexpected approach to the song’s electronic arpeggios.

– I then made even more official history: I had the last request of Jon’s first set. Again, I wasn’t expecting him to turn “Don’t Think Twice” into his Les Paul ditty, but there’s never a bad way to hear Dylan at his best. (Similarly, two requests out of the four means I easily glided into the record books for most requests in his first show – I know these are ridiculous records, but they are my ridiculous records!)

– Speaking of requests, people need to know the protocol for them. It’s pretty simple, actually: when Jon says “Any requests” or “Let’s have a request” or something like that, you yell out your request. Conversely, when Jon doesn’t ask for requests, you don’t yell for them. You definitely don’t yell for them throughout the entire show.

– I had come to terms with a new venue and more people and a different atmosphere. However, as we were waiting for the curtains to part, I had a sinking terror about what the stage would look like. What if the piano wasn’t stage right? What if there was a ridiculous backdrop? Rest assured the stage was a familiar sight for Largo regulars (Viking helmet and all). Only a few (positive) tweaks: the drum area no longer looks like a death trap and is properly illuminated, and the stage is a bit larger which means Jon can jump around a bit more and also has to move a bit faster during his transition from drums to piano.

– Largo’s cell phone policy: exactly the same. God bless.

An Example of Greatness

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Preparing for the end of the year/the beginning of the year, I had my current seniors write personal letters to the future 9th graders that will be taking their seats in less than a month. It seemed like a good way for seniors to fully encapsulate the advice given during their presentations and would offer a personalized introduction to the school for the new freshman (many of my students even translated their letters so that the activity would be made available to new ESL students).

As always, I required students to turn in their work with a cover page. I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten this masterpiece:

Further Evidence of the Greatness of Comic Books

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Fine, fine, it’s not a standard superhero comic, but Crossing Midnight is a prime example of what I’ve been loving about comics lately: crazy storylines, conceptually riveting art, and occasionally brilliant dialogue. Hardly lowbrow at all, in fact. Here’s a brief exchange from the current issue, Crossing Midnight #18:

– You seem troubled, Master Hara. Are you having second thoughts about our strategy?
– No. But I’m no fighter, Lord Rinkin. I don’t know if I can do any of this.
– Do you know the origami sculpture called the Dragon?
– No.
– It is extremely intricate. And in making it you must pass through many intermediate forms. Some of these transitional stages are very beautiful. They look like end points in their own right. The seated man. The rose. The open hand. I apologize for the labored analogy. But life folds each of us into many curious shapes before we finally become what we are meant to be.

Apropos of Yesterday’s Post

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“Here’s the important thing to remember: people throw around the term pop music and it has various meanings now. I think it’s really a misnomer. It’s a critical trap. Pop music, is from the term popular music and the term came up in what was called the golden era of songwriting, which was Gershwin and Berlin and Porter and those people. And that was extraordinarily popular music – they were writing the hit songs of the day. It was also acknowledged that the best songwriters were writing the best songs of the day. Everyone knew this. George Gershwin was as gifted a musician as has ever walked the earth and as good a songwriter as has ever walked the earth. So that was popular music. It got shortened to pop in the ‘60s with the whole quote unquote pop art revolution and the Beatles being the ultimate expression of what was popular and also clearly considered one of the great artistic events of the last half of the twentieth century. So fine, you’ve got this melding of things and things like Motown – these guys were sitting around trying to write hits. The Beatles were trying to outdo each other to see who would have the single. There was infighting about this stuff. And the winner would get something like “ We Can Work It Out” in the process. It’s kind of amazing, and the song is unlike anything made before or since, in truth. Think about what an odd piece of unique business that is. And it was hugely successful. So that’s what it was and then it became pop music. But then ever since the punk movement, with power pop – those bands weren’t necessarily popular but they were all sort of blown out of the Beatles mode but some sort of modification of that – in that case it was amped up tempo-wise, people started, within the underground music community, referring to pop as anything that had the ‘60s brightness and attention to melody. And that’s now what it means when people say things like, “Oh, it’s sort of a pop band.” It means it’s melodic and upbeat. And that is not pop music currently. Pop music right now would be Britney Spears. That’s popular music. Now to what extent that music actually has great melodies… not too much. I think her records … the song “Toxic” has a very very clear melodic hook and to me that’s good pop music, it’s good ear candy – it super glossy but it’s glossy that pays off. They’re being creative in their glossiness. It’s like the top of the Chrysler building – very bright. It is a glittery object and it works. The other popular music I’m not hearing a lot. It’s great when I hear something like the White Stripes kicking through, I’m happy for the humanity it represents. There’s not a lot to admire on the charts currently. And I’m a total lover of popular music and popular culture and soak it all up and think there’s interesting stuff to be had in our time that wasn’t possible before. But I don’t think it’s a good time for melody or song craft. And also records increasingly became just about a drum loop and nothing else. And to me, if the drum loop is always two bars and is always just loosely to some extent based on the great discovery that James Brown made 40 years ago, I don’t know… I’d rather listen tot that moment of invention. And it’s still, generally at least, funk as the modern thing that’s doing that. If not more so. So I see this as a quagmire…we could go further and further. Is it a good moment for melody? No. Is it a good moment for song structure? No. Does that mean it’s dead? No. When you hear a record that’s really something different – a lot of those things that the Neptunes have done – there’s some real inventiveness there and they’re also popular. To me that’s like a good version of, ‘Hey, we’re trying to make a version of This Year’s Model. We’re trying to make something slick that pays off.’ Hip-hop’s been the most interesting thing to watch for 20 years. It’s not a new phenomenon. Since the ‘80s, overground popular music has been pretty shitty except for that moment in the early ’90s when the gatekeepers let a few people through. And hip-hop has at least had various eras of amazing invention. If you take all the great Run DMC records with all the great juxtapositions there. It’s hard and it was funny and it was pure hip-hop and also rock and it was underground and popular. There was so much duality running through that. Same with the moment that Public Enemy arrived and it was like, ‘This is the motherfucking future. Rock!’ Chuck D was so on his game so on point and so fucking smart. Hip-hop has offered the most invention although I actually feel in the past decade it was really lumbering in its own clichés to the extent that I was disappointed heartily and that’s part of the reason why I feel Outkast is such a blessing. To come out and go, ‘Guess what? Our attitude is so completely different and we don’t care if you agree with it.’ It’s all great, the whole history of that band is just great, and the fact that somebody like Andre is a hip-hop icon but, in truth, is just this crazed creative pop musician… Outkast represent very much what I love each guy has their own thing is both a totally beautiful respected cool individualist thing and it’s widely popular. To me that’s just the coolest that the song ‘Hey Ya’ is this weird creative burst of energy that it is and that it was the hugest song of the year… To me, I feel like when I hear that, I hear the great feeling of when you hear the early Beck stuff being successful and think that he can be on the radio or the great moment in the ‘80s when everything was sucking and suddenly Prince becomes massively successful and a song like ‘When the Doves Cry’ was the inescapable song of the year but you look at it and go, ‘Wait a minute, this song has no bass on it, he is singing like a complete madman, there’s these weird electronic noises…’ There was a period of four or five Prince records in a row that were the most artistic records being made at the moment and the most popular. The fact that that is a complete circuit is bewilderingly beautiful to me.”
-Jon Brion on the current use of the word “pop”

Note: the exact date I conducted this interview isn’t entirely clear. However, based on the recent references, I suspect this was from 4 or 5 years ago, pre-shaved head/nutso Britney.

Lowbrow Literacy

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I’ve been struggling for some time, trying to come up with a more elegant way of presenting this argument. I don’t think I’ll be finding one anytime soon. In any case the revelations here are neither of the shocking nor groundbreaking variety so I’ll be taking a steadfast out-out-damned-spot, full-steam-ahead, approach:

Since really focusing on my professional practice, I’ve spent a disproportionate amount of my time thinking about literacy (access to, and change in, etc, etc). This post serves as a critical inspection of some of the literacy skills I’ve cultivated of late.

Specifically, I wanted to talk about (flaunt?) the lowbrow literacy skills I’ve been mastering.

A Disclaimer
Before really launching into a real description of what I mean, I need to address the concerns with the naming problem here. I am again at a loss as to the original text I encountered that explained the history between “lowbrow” and “highbrow.” However, a quick google confirms my understanding of the terms coming out of phrenology. As such, the history of “lowbrow” and those individuals with said lower brows is one of racial undertones. As the word is part of our common vernacular today emphasizes the miscegenated journey of the lowbrow/highbrow binary.

What is Lowbrow Literacy?
As much as I enjoy pretentious literature, art gallery soirees, and excursions to the the-a-tre (to be spoken in a thick, British accent – three syllables oh-so-necessary), I pride myself on the breadth of bottom-of-the-barrel cultural knowledge. Forget The Simpsons and forget secretly smart commentary from the likes of the Daily Show – that stuff’s for the birds. I’m referring to My Super Sweet 16, Justin Timblake, and American Idol. You know, rubbish. As much as I enjoy top-tier art, I frequently revel in the kinds drivel that make grandparents call the TV the “idiot box.” Comic Books. Entertainment Weekly. The Soup. Bad ‘80s Sex Comedies. Florida. VH1’s Top 50 Insufferably Unnecessary Lists of All Time. Like I said, not only do I subject myself to this stuff, but I love it. I study it, I read about it online, I stay awake thinking about it.

There was a time when I was a qualified music snob: I could identify what borough of New York an indie band hailed from, even though I had yet to actually visit the city. Similarly, I would casually ask about someone’s musical taste at a college party. After hearing a few artists, I could/would immediately judge and (more importantly) hold disdain for this person based solely on their taste. I am not proud of this cheap parlor trick (I kind of think of it now like tarot reading – but that’s another story for another day) – but it shows the kind of interwoven connections I’m partially trying to illustrate. On the other hand it also shows a major shortcoming of mine: I wasn’t willing to embrace the lowbrow at the time – I was afraid to publicize my adoration for Prince, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, radio friendly pop-punk, and the commercially besmirched failures of Robin Williams’ ‘90s catalog (see Toys & Jack as prime examples). To the shock of many close friends, I’ve come to publicly embrace and celebrate the aforementioned artists.

As such, the same way I’m able to traverse a conversation about Frankfurt School philosophical implications in classroom pedagogy, I’m similarly able to question Chef Gordon Ramsey’s attitude and Paula Abdul’s commenting faux pas and the general ripples such behaviors will cast on the web of network television. This too is a literacy; it’s just not one that’s especially appreciated or valued by the people that bother to write about or place value on things like literacy (and yes, I’m fully aware that I’m included in the elitist population).

Reality Television: A Case Study in L.L.
Maybe it’s best to briefly look at one case study of lowbrow literacy in action, a personal favorite of mine: reality television. I’m a sucker for it. From the Bravo channel’s ([only] slightly) more sophisticated stew of the now to the pure crockery of current iterations of the Real World to the rather bizarre incarnations in the outer regions of cable television (really, did anyone else see the elimination show for motivational speakers??), I’ve waded through it all. Not only am I wading through it, but I am confident that other reality TV junkies like myself are able to enjoy these shows even more because we are more acclimated to the reality TV grammar that has been prescribed for these shows. It’s worth looking at the first season of the Real World (and yes, I was hooked from day one – confused that Beavis and Butthead had been ousted from its 4 p.m. time slot) – the show didn’t know what it was doing. The drama was missing. A single heated argument about race is the only real highlight most viewers can recall. Similarly, look at the casts of these early seasons – many “characters” are simply not in a bunch of episodes – it was too real. Take the doctor in the San Francisco season – she was busy being a doctor and didn’t have time for this MTV crap. On the same season we also get our quintessential reality TV rabble-rouser: Puck – the kind of house villain that nearly every show has attempted to replicate (on an interesting side note, I think the Shakespearean connection in Puck’s name was both an intentional inclusion for the show and something that was lost on most viewers).

You’ll see similar growth in shows like Survivor and Big Brother (thought he fact that the house in Big Brother was constantly being monitored online detracted from the general storyline’s pacing). Ultimately, through understanding this television grammer, we’ve gotten some elegant by products. A personal favorite, for example, would be the Joe Schmo show. A meta-reality show in which everything is staged by professional actors except for one of the game’s contestants. A brilliant and underappreciated work, the Joe Schmo Show reads (yes, “reads”) like a Reality Television 101 course and is required viewing (reading) for anyone looking to appreciate the genre/medium.

What’s the Point?
And while I realize much of this description comes as jest and lighthearted endorsement of musical rubbish and televised pap, I do believe there are real implications in analyzing this kind of literacy. For one, this is precisely the kind of literacy skill that is typically mined in the culturally relevant curriculum wars being waged in LAUSD in the name of “equity.” I’ve stated before that I don’t think our school system’s been getting this right and that the approach is all wrong. However, if we’re not able to read and participate in the literacy practices that our students are fluent in, it seems unlikely that they’ll be willing to compromise in valuing an esoteric literacy practice like engaging with a 5 paragraph essay. Similarly, there’s real value in recognizing the conventions of lowbrow sub-genres: looking back on the middle portion of this rant reminds me about how I’ll be able to play with reality TV grammatical pacing in structuring the tension and dynamics of the Black Cloud game.

At the same time, folks like Henry Jenkins place a tremendous amount of value on things like “mash ups” and “participatory media.” Daye and I had a brief conversation about her distaste for all things mash-up. I think I’ll tip that iceberg at a later date.

Mr. Froebel’s Cabinet of (scripted, abstracted, spiritual) Wonder

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This post serves as a general stomping ground for comments and lingering thoughts about the latest Beyond Pedagogy text, Inventing Kindergarten.

Though our meeting had a slightly smaller turnout than previous ones, the dialogue was all the more engaging. That being said, Mark was kind enough to offer his notes from the meeting. Below are his unedited, running notes throughout the exchange – the excessive question mark use is all his! (??????)
And yes, this blog post’s title is an homage to one of my favorite books about one of my favorite places.
Mark’s Notes:

PAULA’S comments and ideas:
teachers undervalue the importance of media design (how the book was designed)  EXPOUND – ??????
Walt Whitman (leaves of grass… book making – a lost art)
a little whitewashed… how did these kindergarten ideas affect other cultures…
was it really “creative” “abstract” – tolerating ambiguity
reminiscent of scientific behavioralism…
embodied literacy – not so cerebral…
infantilizing high school students – thru rules

OCTAVIO’S comments and ideas:
has to finish his dissertation
were Vygotsky and Froebel contemporaries
how education is compartmentalized….  the need for Interdisciplinary approach (connections)
experience is important…
play as a form of inquiry… (theatre as play)
???Where do video games fit into this????
basic skills fit into the larger context (LIFE) need to align experience with literacy
part of it has to be by design – what if life is the design????

ANTERO’S comments and ideas:
universal connectivity… Glass Bead Game (interconnectivity)
student of everything (LIFE) – Renaissance person…
lost in high school is a sense of play…

???Adult over play??? magic is lost, pedagogy is hidden for the kids ???? How do you balance transparency of pedagogy with sense of magic or wonderment…?????
consumerism destroying the purity…
intellectual play

Some random updates

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– The Beyond Pedagogy schedule has been updated here.

– I’ve been offering sample lessons from the Words on Walls graffiti unit I’ve been teaching over at the homeroom. It’s being updated once or twice a week at the moment. The description of the project is here.

– Innovation Division happenings: Manual Arts teachers will be voting on May 28th and 29th and Manual Arts parents will be voting on May 31st. All stops have been proverbially pulled out.

– Daye and I will be part of a demo/poster session at the HASTAC Conference on the 24th. We’ll be unveiling the revised Black Cloud game scheduled to launch in July. (I know the project isn’t listed on the site, but I assure I’ll be there!) Here are a few pictures of the student notebooks we’re developing for the game – check out the colored pupils on Cloudy! Daye’s a goku superstar and I’m the shoddy photographer here.

Full picture set here.

Leisure Reading, Film Literacy, and Two Mentions of Literary Monkeys

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With B-track back in session, a daily silent reading period of 15-20 minutes in each of my classes means I’m able to tackle some of the random books I’ve been accumulating. Strange as it may seem, I get through a bit more leisure reading while I’m full-on teacher mode than while I’m off track with way more free time.

When I first read the description of The Film Club By David Gilmour, way back in December, I immediately preordered the book – the premise was good enough to be a must-read: Gilmour allows his 16 year old son to drop out of school with one simple caveat. The son has to watch three films a week with his father. This is the closest that the son gets to a legitimate education throughout his high school career.

While The Film Club spends more time than I’d prefer dealing with relationship issues: miserable breakups, growing pains, crazy girlfriends, and more miserable breakups, the discussions of the time spent watching film is entertaining.

As an educator, I was particularly interested in this early passage: “I didn’t waste any time. The next afternoon, I sat him down on the blue couch in the living room, me on the right, him on the left, pulled in the curtains, and showed him Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959). I figured it was a good way to slide into European art films, which I knew were going to bore him until he learned how to watch them. It’s like learning a variation on regular grammar.”

Though I’ve only taught one official Film Studies class (an intersession course that ranged from Style Wars to Buster Keaton), film literacy and its necessary “grammar” are the skills I continue trying to develop in my 11th and 12th grade English classes. Likewise, the conflicted dissimilitude of Antoine Doinel is perpetually present in many of my seniors; standing on the precipice between student and not-student, these are students marinating in uncertainty. Maybe a screening of The 400 Blows is worth a shot?

In related news, Matt Ruff’s Bad Monkeys was a fun, silly yarn. I admittedly picked this up because I’m a sucker for the book design, but the book has me interested in pursuing Ruff’s previous books.

Currently really enjoying Chip Kidd’s The Learners (a sequel to the underrated The Cheese Monkeys). I suspect I’ll need to go back to the Beyond Pedagogy texts after this one, to stay on top of things.

Oh and I’m only a third of the way through Infinite Jest but the hyperbolic praise that the book’s garnered is becoming more solidified with each page read. (As I was looking up the book – I noticed that the current version of the text is only $6.29 on Amazon. Though not the edition I’m reading, this is an absolute steal. At slightly more than 1100 pages long, the cost breaks down to about sixty cents per hundred pages. I can ascertain it’s a text that will keep you busy and cerebrally entertained.)

Note: Though this isn’t technically a 101 post, it’s been tagged as such for personal reference. Pay no mind.

Kindergarten as a Secondary Practice

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Before I get into the meat of this post, I wanted to mention that the schedule for the Beyond Pedagogy group has been revised – our last meeting was canceled at the 11th hour and will be rescheduled at our next meeting on May 8th. The full schedule is found here.

Now then, having recently finished the current reading selection, Inventing Kindergarten, I felt compelled to add to the list of imaginary classes that should be instituted down the line: Kindergarten 101.

What is Kindergarten?
Though Friedrich Froebel’s original vision of kindergarten has become terribly diluted, the original vision was of “a radical and highly spiritual system of abstract-design activities intended to teach the recognition and appreciation of natural harmony” (page 12). Frankly, the spirituality aspect of Froebel’s kindergarten isn’t to be taken lightly, the entire curricula was designed around a sense of discovered unity throughout life.

Aside from spirituality, the goals of curriculum were about student play and abstraction. Through a serious of activities and “gifts,” students are urged to slowly move from explicit and real representations to abstract and varied methods of understanding, visualizing, and imagining. The process is entirely unlike the kinds of practices enforced in high schools today.

And while kindergarten kept kids busy every day (the class itself being rigorously structured), the entire process was to feel natural and fun: “Kindergarten was play, and a good kindergartener made certain her little sprouts never thought otherwise – the theoretical underpinnings of the education were kept from children just as they are in any classroom situation” (page 145). Not sure, I’d agree with the last clause – I’ve used Freire as a means to open discussion and dialogue in my class and candidly discuss motivations behind my practice. However, there are certain things that remain behind the curtain, as I’ll explain about the Black Cloud.

I realize this is a painfully limited description (go read the book!), I mainly want to outline the key goals of kindergarten: unity, natural harmony, abstraction, and play. As Brosterman explains, “The intended result of this all-encompassing instruction was the creation of a sensitive, inquisitive child with an uninhibited curiosity and genuine respect for nature, family, and society…” (page 39).

So What Went Wrong?
I mentioned that kindergarten ain’t as it used to be. The main reason for this – surprise – is crass consumerism. The “gifts” that are essential to the kindergarten experience became marketed so aggressively that production flaws would change or “enhance” the tools used in the class: “the gifts have been transformed, the educational objective for what is left of the occupations has been lost of corrupted” (page 40). Similarly, the teachers that continued the tradition of Froebel’s kindergarten didn’t have the kind of subtle and detailed training that was required. A certain amount of finesse was required for the differentiated and nuanced work that took place every day in the class.

Funnily enough, consumerism is part of what’s ruining education today as well! Public schools are being forced to “comply” with specific curriculum as is often created by private companies and organizations. There are ferocious bidding wars by groups like Prentice Hall and Holt to be the “official” textbook within a school. Millions of dollars are at stake. The material? About as good as a one-size-fits-all solution can be. At a recent professional development meeting, the presenter mentioned that most questions within English textbooks rarely invoke the higher order thinking skills in Bloom’s taxonomy. (Synthesize??? What’s that?!)

But Why in High School?
Today, students come into my class at the beginning of the year wary, uninterested, and expecting to do the work to pass the class. The curiosity factor is nil. The occasional expressive and interested student is seen as a thrilling anomaly and is quickly fetishized by a handful of teachers. Most are not the “sensitive, inquisitive” children of Froebel’s dreams. And if that sounds like a slight to the students I teach, it’s not: the things that my students write, create, or express continually amaze me throughout my class. However, somewhere along the line, students were programmed to stop asking questions, stop having fun, and start learning how to bubble in the “right” answers on by-rote exams on a semi-annual basis. Yes, schools really do kill creativity.

Students need to feel comfortable playing; this is part of the process of learning and being creative. We need a system for students to get back into the habit of having fun.

What Would This Look Like in High School?
A lot of this is about changing what happens inside the classroom. Why can’t there be a sense of mystery in an English class? Why can’t your history class be inquiry based and allow room for “play”?

What most excites me about the Black Cloud game is the opportunity to completely throw students off balance. Not only will students be playing a game for a month and a half in my class, but – for most of the time – they won’t even know they are playing a game. The entire project relies on student curiosity. Yes, we’re still learning the necessary English skills I’m required to teach, but we’re doing it in a way that Froebel would probably admire. (And just like in Kindergarten, the actual learning and “goals” of the unit remain hidden. The premise of play and discovery are all that is visible for the students).

Kindergarten is a pedagogical tool that can be adapted for all ages. It’s classroom interaction, student and teacher roles within the classroom, and school activities re-envisioned. It was invented more than 150 years ago and it just might be the most refreshing way to transform the current educational landscape.

EDIT: No, I don’t know why I wrote “Post-secondary” when I was talking about high school… it’s fixed now. It’s monday and it’s already been a long week…