Lynda Barry on How the Smartphone Is Endangering Three Ingredients of Creativity: Loneliness, Uncertainty & Boredom

The phone gives us a lot but it takes away three key ele­ments of dis­cov­ery: lone­li­ness, uncer­tain­ty and bore­dom. Those have always been where cre­ative ideas come from. — Lyn­da Bar­ry

In the spring of 2016, the great car­toon­ist and edu­ca­tor, Lyn­da Bar­ry, did the unthink­able, pri­or to giv­ing a lec­ture and writ­ing class at NASA’s God­dard Space Flight Cen­ter.

She demand­ed that all par­tic­i­pat­ing staff mem­bers sur­ren­der their phones and oth­er such per­son­al devices.

Her vic­tims were as jan­gled by this prospect as your aver­age iPhone-addict­ed teen, but sur­ren­dered, agree­ing to write by hand, anoth­er anti­quat­ed notion Bar­ry sub­scribes to:

The delete but­ton makes it so that any­thing you’re unsure of you can get rid of, so noth­ing new has a chance. Writ­ing by hand is a rev­e­la­tion for peo­ple. Maybe that’s why they asked me to NASA – I still know how to use my hands… there is a dif­fer­ent way of think­ing that goes along with them.

Barry—who told the Onion’s AV Club that she craft­ed her book What It Is with an eye toward bored read­ers stuck in a Jiffy Lube oil-change wait­ing room—is also a big pro­po­nent of doo­dling, which she views as a cre­ative neu­ro­log­i­cal response to bore­dom:

Bor­ing meet­ing, you have a pen, the usu­al clowns are yakking. Most peo­ple will draw some­thing, even peo­ple who can’t draw. I say “If you’re bored, what do you draw?” And every­body has some­thing they draw. Like “Oh yeah, my lit­tle guy, I draw him.” Or “I draw eye­balls, or palm trees.” … So I asked them “Why do you think you do that? Why do you think you doo­dle dur­ing those meet­ings?” I believe that it’s because it makes hav­ing to endure that par­tic­u­lar sit­u­a­tion more bear­able, by chang­ing our expe­ri­ence of time. It’s so slight. I always say it’s the dif­fer­ence between, if you’re not doo­dling, the min­utes feel like a cheese grater on your face. But if you are doo­dling, it’s more like Bril­lo.  It’s not much bet­ter, but there is a dif­fer­ence. You could han­dle Bril­lo a lit­tle longer than the cheese grater.

Meet­ings and class­rooms are among the few remain­ing venues in which screen-addict­ed moths are expect­ed to force them­selves away from the phone’s invit­ing flame. Oth­er settings—like the Jiffy Lube wait­ing room—require more ini­tia­tive on the user’s part.

Once, we were keen­er stu­dents of minor changes to famil­iar envi­ron­ments, the books strangers were read­ing in the sub­way, and those strangers them­selves. Our sub­se­quent obser­va­tions were known to spark con­ver­sa­tion and some­times ideas that led to cre­ative projects.

Now, many of us let those oppor­tu­ni­ties slide by, as we fill up on such fleet­ing con­fec­tions as fun­ny videos and all-you-can-eat serv­ings of social media.

It’s also tempt­ing to use our phones as defac­to shields any time social anx­i­ety looms. This dodge may pro­vide short term com­fort, espe­cial­ly to younger peo­ple, but remem­ber, Bar­ry and many of her car­toon­ist peers, includ­ing Daniel Clowes, Simon Hansel­mann, and Ariel Schrag, toughed it out by mak­ing art. That’s what got them through the lone­li­ness, uncer­tain­ty, and bore­dom of their mid­dle and high school years.

The book you hold in your hands would not exist had high school been a pleas­ant expe­ri­ence for me… It was on those qui­et week­end nights when even my par­ents were out hav­ing fun that I began mak­ing seri­ous attempts to make sto­ries in comics form.

Adri­an Tomine, intro­duc­tion to 32 Sto­ries

Bar­ry is far from alone in encour­ag­ing adults to peel them­selves away from their phone depen­den­cy for their cre­ative good.

Pho­tog­ra­ph­er Eric Pickersgill’s Removed imag­ines a series of every­day sit­u­a­tions in which phones and oth­er per­son­al devices have been ren­dered invis­i­ble. (It’s worth not­ing that he removed the offend­ing arti­cles from the mod­els’ hands, rather that Pho­to­shop­ping them out lat­er.)

Com­put­er Sci­ence Pro­fes­sor Calvin Newport’s book, Deep Work, posits that all that shal­low phone time is cre­at­ing stress, anx­i­ety, and lost cre­ative oppor­tu­ni­ties, while also doing a num­ber on our per­son­al and pro­fes­sion­al lives.

Author Manoush Zomorodi’s TED Talk on how bore­dom can lead to bril­liant ideas, below, details a week­long exper­i­ment in bat­tling smart­phone habits, with lots of sci­en­tif­ic evi­dence to back up her find­ings.

But what if you wipe the slate of dig­i­tal dis­trac­tions only to find that your brain’s just… emp­ty? A once occu­pied room, now devoid of any­thing but dim­ly recalled memes, and gen­er­al­ized dread over the state of the world?

The afore­men­tioned AV Club inter­view with Bar­ry offers both encour­age­ment and some use­ful sug­ges­tions that will get the tem­porar­i­ly par­a­lyzed mov­ing again:

I don’t know what the strip’s going to be about when I start. I nev­er know. I often­times have—I call it the word-bag. Just a bag of words. I’ll just reach in there, and I’ll pull out a word, and it’ll say “ping-pong.” I’ll just have that in my head, and I’ll start draw­ing the pic­tures as if I can… I hear a sen­tence, I just hear it. As soon as I hear even the begin­ning of the first sen­tence, then I just… I write real­ly slow. So I’ll be writ­ing that, and I’ll know what’s going to go at the top of the pan­el. Then, when it gets to the end, usu­al­ly I’ll know what the next one is. By three sen­tences or four in that first pan­el, I stop, and then I say “Now it’s time for the draw­ing.” Then I’ll draw. But then I’ll hear the next one over on anoth­er page! Or when I’m draw­ing Marlys and Arna, I might hear her say some­thing, but then I’ll hear Marlys say some­thing back. So once that first sen­tence is there, I have all kinds of choic­es as to where I put my brush. But if noth­ing is hap­pen­ing, then I just go over to what I call my decoy page. It’s like decoy ducks. I go over there and just start mess­ing around.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2017.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Infor­ma­tion Over­load Robs Us of Our Cre­ativ­i­ty: What the Sci­en­tif­ic Research Shows

The Case for Delet­ing Your Social Media Accounts & Doing Valu­able “Deep Work” Instead, Accord­ing to Prof. Cal New­port

Lyn­da Barry’s Illus­trat­ed Syl­labus & Home­work Assign­ments from Her New UW-Madi­son Course, “Mak­ing Comics”

Lyn­da Bar­ry, Car­toon­ist Turned Pro­fes­sor, Gives Her Old Fash­ioned Take on the Future of Edu­ca­tion

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and the­ater mak­er in NYC.

Watch Jazzy Spies: 1969 Psychedelic Sesame Street Animation, Featuring Grace Slick, Teaches Kids to Count

When asked for their favorite Sesame Street seg­ment, many chil­dren of the 70s and 80s point to Pin­ball Num­ber Count. Psy­che­del­ic ani­ma­tion, the Point­er Sis­ters, odd time signatures—what’s not to love? But for the seri­ous Sesame Street buff, the “Jazz Num­bers” series above deserves the sil­ver medal. It’s got free jazz, Yel­low Sub­ma­rine-style sur­re­al­is­tic ani­ma­tion, and a vocal from Grace Slick of Jef­fer­son Air­plane. How many young par­ents rec­og­nized her dis­tinc­tive voice, I won­der?

Also known as “Jazzy Spies,” this 1969 series of ani­ma­tions was devot­ed to the num­bers 2 through 10 (there was no film for “one” as it is the loneli­est num­ber that you’ll ever do), and was an essen­tial ele­ment in Sesame Street’s first sea­son. High­lights include the dream-like ele­va­tor door sequence of “2,” the Jack­son 5 ref­er­ence in “5,” and the rac­ing fans in “10.”

Slick got involved through her first hus­band, Jer­ry Slick, who pro­duced the seg­ments for San Fran­cis­co-based ani­ma­tion stu­dio Imag­i­na­tion, Inc. Head­ed by ani­ma­tor Jeff Hale, the com­pa­ny also pro­duced the Pin­ball seg­ments, as well as the famous anamor­phic “Type­writer Guy,” the Ring­mas­ter, and the Detec­tive Man. Hale, by the way, has a cameo as Augie “Ben” Dog­gie in the well-loved Lucas par­o­dy Hard­ware Wars.)

The deliri­ous music was com­posed and per­formed by Colum­bia jazz artist Den­ny Zeitlin, who would go on to score the 1979 remake of Inva­sion of the Body Snatch­ers. Zeitlin plays both piano and clavinet; accom­pa­ny­ing him is Bob­by Natan­son on drums and Mel Graves on bass. Accord­ing to Zeitlin, Grace Slick over­dubbed her vocals lat­er.

This wasn’t Slick’s first encounter with Jim Hen­son. In 1968, she and oth­er mem­bers of Jef­fer­son Air­plane were part of a coun­ter­cul­ture doc­u­men­tary called Youth ’68, the trail­er for which you can groove on here.

Sesame Street, with all its pri­ma­ry col­ors, plas­tic mer­chan­dise, and Elmo infes­ta­tion, may have lost its edge, but these ear­ly works show its rev­o­lu­tion­ary foun­da­tions.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2015.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Philip Glass Com­pos­es Music for a Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion (1979)

Itzhak Perl­man Appears on Sesame Street and Poignant­ly Shows Kids How to Play the Vio­lin and Push Through Life’s Lim­its (1981)

Watch the First Episode of Sesame Street and 140 Oth­er Free Episodes

A Young Jim Hen­son Teach­es You How to Make Pup­pets with Socks, Ten­nis Balls & Oth­er House­hold Goods (1969)

See Ste­vie Won­der Play “Super­sti­tion” and Ban­ter with Grover on Sesame Street in 1973

Thank You, Mask Man: Lenny Bruce’s Lone Ranger Com­e­dy Rou­tine Becomes a NSFW Ani­mat­ed Film (1968)

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts.

Every Known Work by Georgia O’Keeffe Has Been Digitized and Made Available Online

Upon hear­ing the names of Arthur Dove or Mars­den Hart­ley, the sat­u­rat­ed col­ors and organ­i­cal­ly askew lines of those painters’ land­scapes may appear before your mind’s eye. But unless you have a spe­cial inter­est in Amer­i­can mod­ernists of the ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, they prob­a­bly don’t. The name Geor­gia O’Ke­effe, by con­trast, can hard­ly fail to bring a few images even to the mind of the strict­ly casu­al art appre­ci­a­tor: New Mex­i­can mesas, ani­mal skulls, and above all flow­ers in extreme close-up. Apart from the artis­tic skill and dis­tinc­tive vision with which she cre­at­ed it, O’Ke­ef­fe’s work per­sists in the wider cul­ture because of how well it hap­pens to repro­duce in a vari­ety of con­texts, includ­ing post­cards, mugs, and even appar­el, such as that sold at her epony­mous muse­um in San­ta Fe.

Keep­ing such prod­ucts around is, of course, no sub­sti­tute for see­ing the real thing; in their phys­i­cal real­i­ty, O’Ke­ef­fe’s paint­ings have a way of rebuff­ing all the inter­pre­ta­tions with which they’ve been freight­ed for more than a cen­tu­ry now. If you can’t make it out to New Mex­i­co, the Geor­gia O’Ke­effe Muse­um has been work­ing to make every sin­gle one of her pieces (includ­ing sculp­tures and pho­tographs) avail­able for view­ing online at a just-launched por­tal called Access O’Ke­effe.

The muse­um describes it as a “user-friend­ly, search­able web­site with high-res­o­lu­tion images, visu­al descrip­tions, exhi­bi­tion his­to­ries, archival mate­ri­als, and research data asso­ci­at­ed with the artist’s two-vol­ume cat­a­logue raison­né.” The site’s vis­i­tors “can browse by col­or, shape, or medi­um, explore the con­text of works cre­at­ed before and after a spe­cif­ic paint­ing, trace his­toric exhi­bi­tions, cre­ate lists of favorites, and down­load images.”

Access O’Ke­effe makes it easy to find the artist’s most famous paint­ings, but also works that may sur­prise view­ers who only know her mesas, skulls, and flow­ers. Take, for exam­ple, such noc­tur­nal­ly themed can­vas­es as her ear­ly Starlight Night, from 1917, or her late Unti­tled (City Night), from the nine­teen-sev­en­ties. O’Ke­ef­fe’s Amer­i­ca, we must remem­ber, isn’t lim­it­ed to the desert: though she did spend most of her near­ly cen­tu­ry-long life’s sec­ond half in New Mex­i­co, it also took her from Wis­con­sin to Vir­ginia to Texas to New York, with stints in South Car­oli­na and Hawaii. Giv­en the impor­tance of under­stand­ing any artist’s con­texts both geo­graph­i­cal and social, Access O’Ke­effe also pro­vides an archive of arti­facts and exhi­bi­tions relat­ed to the peo­ple and orga­ni­za­tions asso­ci­at­ed with her — Arthur Dove and Mars­den Hart­ley includ­ed.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Geor­gia O’Keeffe: A Life in Art, a Short Doc­u­men­tary on the Painter Nar­rat­ed by Gene Hack­man

How Geor­gia O’Keeffe Became Geor­gia O’Keeffe: An Ani­mat­ed Video Tells the Sto­ry

An Intro­duc­tion to the Paint­ing That Changed Geor­gia O’Keeffe’s Career: Ram’s Head, White Hol­ly­hock-Hills

The Real Geor­gia O’Keeffe: The Artist Reveals Her­self in Vin­tage Doc­u­men­tary Clips

Recipes from the Kitchen of Geor­gia O’Keeffe

Alfred Stieglitz: The Elo­quent Eye, a Reveal­ing Look at “The Father of Mod­ern Pho­tog­ra­phy”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Why Smart People Feel Like Frauds: The Psychology of Impostor Syndrome and Its Hidden Benefits

Incom­pe­tent peo­ple tend to see them­selves as not just com­pe­tent, but high­ly com­pe­tent. So, at any rate, holds the the­o­ry of the “Dun­ning-Kruger effect,” pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture. But does the con­verse also hold: do high­ly com­pe­tent peo­ple tend to see them­selves as incom­pe­tent? That would seem to be an impli­ca­tion of what’s been called “impos­tor syn­drome,” a per­sis­tent sense of inad­e­qua­cy rel­a­tive to one’s sta­tus or posi­tion, unsup­port­ed by any objec­tive evi­dence. If you your­self have been afflict­ed with that con­di­tion, it may be a tad hasty to take it as a sign of your own effec­tive­ness, but as the Har­vard Busi­ness School’s Arthur C. Brooks explains in the clip above, it may nonethe­less ben­e­fit you to lean into it.

“What all strivers I’ve ever met have in com­mon is that, the high­er they climb and the more suc­cess they have, the more inse­cure they feel in their own suc­cess because they’re not quite sure that they’ve earned it or deserve it,” Brooks says. Iron­i­cal­ly, in his expe­ri­ence, “peo­ple who deserve suc­cess through hard work and mer­it and per­son­al respon­si­bil­i­ty are not quite sure they deserve it, and the peo­ple who don’t deserve it are often the peo­ple who are actu­al­ly most sure that they do.”

In that last group are pos­ses­sors of the so-called “dark tri­ad” traits: nar­cis­sism, Machi­avel­lian­ism, and psy­chopa­thy. A “good, nor­mal, healthy per­son,” by con­trast, will nat­u­ral­ly won­der if they real­ly mer­it the pro­mo­tions, rewards, and acco­lades they receive, and if they’re tru­ly up to each task ahead.

To com­bat impos­tor syn­drome, Brooks rec­om­mends you “under­stand it, keep up to date with it, and keep try­ing to get bet­ter at the things you’re not good at yet.” Human­i­ty’s gen­er­al neg­a­tiv­i­ty bias may keep most of us sus­pect­ing that we’ve been over­es­ti­mat­ed, but that does­n’t mean we should ignore the oppor­tu­ni­ties for gen­uine self-improve­ment that such feel­ings present. “The truth is, if things are real­ly, real­ly rough for you, you’re not all weak­ness­es, and if things are going real­ly well for you, you’re not all strengths.” It just hap­pens that at some times, every­one focus­es on the for­mer, and at oth­er times, the lat­ter, and what’s impor­tant is not to let your­self be too heav­i­ly influ­enced in either case. Per­haps you can stay ground­ed by bear­ing in mind a cou­ple of trusty old adages: that nobody’s per­fect, and that you do, some­times, have to fake it ’til you make it.

Relat­ed con­tent:

24 Com­mon Cog­ni­tive Bias­es: A Visu­al List of the Psy­cho­log­i­cal Sys­tems Errors That Keep Us From Think­ing Ratio­nal­ly

Why Incom­pe­tent Peo­ple Think They’re Com­pe­tent: The Dun­ning-Kruger Effect, Explained

Why Over­con­fi­dence Is Our Most Dan­ger­ous Cog­ni­tive Bias

John Cleese on How “Stu­pid Peo­ple Have No Idea How Stu­pid They Are” (Oth­er­wise Known as the Dun­ning-Kruger Effect)

There Are Eight Forms of Intel­li­gence, Not Just One: Which Apply to You?

The Sur­pris­ing Pow­er of Bore­dom: It Lets You Con­front Big Ques­tions & Give Life Mean­ing

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

How Quentin Tarantino’s One-Night “Detest Fest” Changed His Life & Set Him on the Path to Pulp Fiction

Just days ago, a game came out whose unlike­ly premise has already drawn a good deal of atten­tion. “Man­age your very own video store in the ear­ly 90s!” exclaims the descrip­tion of Retro Rewind. “Rent, sell, dec­o­rate and expand your busi­ness from the ground up and relive the gold­en ages of video rentals!” Those of us old enough to have relied on such estab­lish­ments for our ear­ly cin­e­mat­ic edu­ca­tion can all too eas­i­ly remem­ber how frus­trat­ing they could be, what with their phys­i­cal­ly lim­it­ed selec­tions, sel­dom-rewound tapes, and puni­tive late fees. Even so, younger gen­er­a­tions aren’t wrong to imag­ine that some were spe­cial places where it felt like a cinephile’s dreams could come true. Just ask Quentin Taran­ti­no.

The clip above comes from Joe Rogan’s inter­view with Taran­ti­no and Roger Avary, who worked togeth­er at Man­hat­tan Beach’s Video Archives before they co-wrote Pulp Fic­tion. “Work­ing at that store, I just got caught up in the lit­tle life there,” Taran­ti­no says. Yet he also remem­bers him­self think­ing, “Well, this isn’t my dream. This isn’t what I want­ed to do work­ing at a video store for years. I want­ed to actu­al­ly make movies. It’s not my dream, what I’m doing — but it’s dream-adja­cent!” It turned out that get­ting paid to watch movies all day long (to say noth­ing of becom­ing local­ly famous for sheer cinephil­ia) with­out putting in any seri­ous man­u­al labor “put my ambi­tions to sleep a lit­tle bit.”

Taran­ti­no explains that his awak­en­ing from this retail rever­ie began with wit­ness­ing the sud­den embit­ter­ment of fel­low clerks who passed the age of thir­ty doing the same “cool” jobs they always had. This set him on the path to under­go­ing a series of dark nights of the soul he called “Quentin detest fests,” dur­ing which he would make a no-excus­es account­ing of all the mis­takes he was active­ly or pas­sive­ly mak­ing. “I would spend all night lay­ing out every­thing I’m doing that’s wrong, and then I would spend the last two hours fig­ur­ing out how I could change it. And as opposed to just doing it and then going to get some sleep, and then you for­get about it and fall back into your rou­tine, I decid­ed to change my life.”

Attach­ment to his job was a big part of the prob­lem. “I’ve got to just move to Hol­ly­wood, I’ve got to get involved there, I’ve got to meet oth­er peo­ple that are in the busi­ness,” he real­ized. “I should­n’t be mak­ing mon­ey until I’m mak­ing mon­ey doing what I want to do.” Not long after relo­cat­ing from the South Bay to Kore­atown — still well south of Hol­ly­wood, but close enough — he start­ed mak­ing con­nec­tions in the low-bud­get hor­ror world. “Well, if these guys can do it, I can do it,” he came to believe, and with­in a year and a half he was mak­ing a liv­ing as a screen­writer. The video rental indus­try has long since col­lapsed, but Quentin Taran­ti­no is still going strong as a film­mak­er. If he takes a break from work­ing on what may be his last pic­ture to play Retro Rewind, we’d sure­ly all be inter­est­ed in hear­ing what mem­o­ries it brings back. Maybe he and Avary can dis­cuss it on their Video Archives Pod­cast.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Sto­ry of How Quentin Taran­ti­no Became a Film­mak­er and Cre­at­ed Pulp Fic­tion, as Told by Quentin Taran­ti­no

My Best Friend’s Birth­day, Quentin Tarantino’s 1987 Debut Film

Quentin Taran­ti­no Explains How to Write & Direct Movies

Quentin Taran­ti­no Gives a Tour of Video Archives, the Store Where He Worked Before Becom­ing a Film­mak­er

Quentin Taran­ti­no & Roger Avary Rewatch Cult-Clas­sic Movies on Their New Video Archives Pod­cast

What Is a Life-Chang­ing Real­iza­tion You Wish You’d Had Soon­er in Life?

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

An Introduction to the Strait of Hormuz and Its Role in the Longstanding US-Iran Conflict

Above, you can watch a primer on the Strait of Hor­muz, the nar­row pas­sage between Iran and Oman through which rough­ly 20% of the world’s oil sup­ply flows. Pro­duced by Vox, the video explains why this choke­point has long played a cen­tral role in ten­sions between the Unit­ed States and Iran. Since the 1980s, Iran has threat­ened to dis­rupt traf­fic through the Strait, all as a way to exert pres­sure on the glob­al econ­o­my. Now, fac­ing an attack from the Unit­ed States and Israel, it’s mak­ing good on its threats, slow­ing traf­fic to a trick­le. With oil prices surg­ing, the Trump admin­is­tra­tion has yet to demon­strate that it has a coher­ent plan for coun­ter­ing a strat­e­gy that Iran announced decades ago. Stay tuned for more…

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Alan Lomax’s Massive Music Archive Is Online: Features 20,000 Historic Blues & Folk Recordings

A huge trea­sure trove of songs and inter­views record­ed by the leg­endary folk­lorist Alan Lomax from the 1940s into the 1990s has been dig­i­tized and made avail­able online for free lis­ten­ing. The Asso­ci­a­tion for Cul­tur­al Equi­ty, a non­prof­it orga­ni­za­tion found­ed by Lomax in the 1980s, has post­ed some 20,000 record­ings.

“For the first time,” Cul­tur­al Equi­ty Exec­u­tive Direc­tor Don Flem­ing told NPR’s Joel Rose, “every­thing that we’ve dig­i­tized of Alan’s field record­ing trips are online, on our Web site. It’s every take, all the way through. False takes, inter­views, music.”

It’s an amaz­ing resource. For a quick taste, here are a few exam­ples from one of the best-known areas of Lomax’s research, his record­ings of tra­di­tion­al African Amer­i­can cul­ture:

But that’s just scratch­ing the sur­face of what’s inside the enor­mous archive. Lomax’s work extend­ed far beyond the Deep South, into oth­er areas and cul­tures of Amer­i­ca, the Caribbean, Europe and Asia. “He believed that all cul­tures should be looked at on an even play­ing field,” his daugh­ter Anna Lomax Wood told NPR. “Not that they’re all alike. But they should be giv­en the same dig­ni­ty, or they had the same dig­ni­ty and worth as any oth­er.”

You can lis­ten to Rose’s piece about the archive on the NPR web­site, as well as a 1990 inter­view with Lomax by Ter­ry Gross of Fresh Air, which includes sam­ple record­ings from Woody Guthrie, Jel­ly Roll Mor­ton, Lead Bel­ly and Mis­sis­sip­pi Fred McDow­ell. To dive into the Lomax audio archive, you can search the vast col­lec­tion by artist, date, genre, coun­try and oth­er cat­e­gories.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post orig­i­nal­ly appeared on our site in March 2012.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

New, Inter­ac­tive Web Site Puts Online Thou­sands of Inter­na­tion­al Folk Songs Record­ed by the Great Folk­lorist Alan Lomax

Woody Guthrie Cre­ates a Doo­dle-Filled List of 33 New Year’s Res­o­lu­tions (1943): Beat Fas­cism, Write a Song a Day, and Keep the Hop­ing Machine Run­ning

A Playlist of Songs to Get You Through Hard Times: Stream 20 Tracks from the Alan Lomax Col­lec­tion

Jim Jarmusch Picks His Favorite Films from the The Criterion Collection

Jim Jarmusch—the direc­tor of Stranger Than Par­adise, Down by Law, and Dead Man—recent­ly stepped into The Cri­te­ri­on Col­lec­tion clos­et to share the films that shaped his aes­thet­ic sen­si­bil­i­ty. In the next three min­utes, Jar­musch pays trib­ute to a box set of Pier Pao­lo Pasolini’s 1960s films, along with Andrei Tarkovsky’s Mir­ror, plac­ing it even above Stalk­er and Andrei Rublev. Along the way, he name checks a num­ber of oth­er clas­sics. And then, with a bag full of DVDs in hand, he con­cludes: “I love Cri­te­ri­on. I always say the Cri­te­ri­on Chan­nel is my drug of choice.” For any­one inter­est­ed, you can start watch­ing films on the Cri­te­ri­on Chan­nel’s stream­ing ser­vice by sign­ing up for a free tri­al here.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Jim Jarmusch’s 10 Favorite Films: Ozu’s Tokyo Sto­ry, Kurosawa’s Sev­en Samu­rai and Oth­er Black & White Clas­sics

Watch Stalk­er, Andrei Tarkovsky’s Mind-Bend­ing Mas­ter­piece Free Online

How Jim Jar­musch Gets Cre­ative Ideas from William S. Bur­roughs’ Cut-Up Method and Bri­an Eno’s Oblique Strate­gies

Jim Jar­musch: The Art of the Music in His Films

Jim Jarmusch’s Anti-MTV Music Videos for Talk­ing Heads, Neil Young, Tom Waits & Big Audio Dyna­mite

In Her Final Reflections, Jane Goodall Issues a Warning: “Without Hope, We Fall Into Apathy”

For many of us, Jane Goodall was one of those cul­tur­al fig­ures who seemed always to have been around, and on some lev­el, made us feel like she always would be. But of course, no human being lives for­ev­er, no mat­ter how wide­ly admired. Goodall made her own depar­ture last fall, in the mid­dle of an Amer­i­can speak­ing tour, at the age of 91. Just two days there­after, she appeared as the guest on the pre­miere of Net­flix’s Famous Last Words, a pro­gram con­sist­ing of inter­views con­duct­ed express­ly to air only after the inter­vie­wee’s death. In the clip above, the show’s host, TV writer-direc­tor-pro­duc­er Brad Falchuk, asks her an out­ward­ly sim­ple ques­tion: “Who would you say you were?”

Goodall describes her­self as “some­body sent to this world to try to give peo­ple hope in dark times, because with­out hope, we fall into apa­thy and do noth­ing, and in the dark times that we are liv­ing in now, if peo­ple don’t have hope, we’re doomed. How can we bring lit­tle chil­dren into this dark world we’ve cre­at­ed and let them be sur­round­ed by peo­ple who’ve giv­en up? So even if this is the end of human­i­ty as we know it, let’s fight to the very end. Let’s let the chil­dren know that there is hope, if they get togeth­er. And even if it becomes impos­si­ble for any­body, it’s bet­ter to go on fight­ing to the end than just to give up and say, ‘Okay.’ ” These are fine words, though it may sur­prise some of us that they make no men­tion of chimps.

Though she became famous as a pri­ma­tol­o­gist, and specif­i­cal­ly as an expert on chim­panzees, Goodall devot­ed much ener­gy in her lat­er decades to tak­ing action on broad­er caus­es. These includ­ed envi­ron­men­tal con­ser­va­tion and the secu­ri­ty of life on Earth itself, which she saw as imper­iled by the actions of cer­tain gov­ern­ments and polit­i­cal actors. When Falchuk asks who she does­n’t like, she express­es her desire to send per­ma­nent­ly into space Elon Musk, Don­ald Trump and “some of his real sup­port­ers,” Vladimir Putin, Xi Jin­ping, Ben­jamin Netanyahu and “his far-right gov­ern­ment.” That answer may get us won­der­ing whether the result­ing pow­er vac­u­ums would be filled by more or less savory char­ac­ters. The entire inter­view will leave us with anoth­er, per­haps more trou­bling ques­tion: who, today, could be suit­ed to assume the place in pub­lic life left behind by Jane Goodall?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Remem­ber­ing Jane Goodall (RIP): Watch Jane, the Acclaimed Nation­al Geo­graph­ic Doc­u­men­tary

Ani­mat­ed: The Inspi­ra­tional Sto­ry of Jane Goodall, and Why She Believes in Big­foot

Google Street View Lets You Walk in Jane Goodall’s Foot­steps and Vis­it the Chim­panzees of Tan­za­nia

The Last Inter­view Book Series Fea­tures the Final Words of Cul­tur­al Icons: Borges to Bowie, Philip K. Dick to Fri­da Kahlo

The Celebri­ty Encoun­ters of Koko the Goril­la. For Her 43rd Birth­day Today

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Learn Ancient Greek in 118 Free Lessons: A Free Online Course from Brandeis & Harvard

Leonard Muell­ner (Pro­fes­sor Emer­i­tus of Clas­si­cal Stud­ies at Bran­deis Uni­ver­si­ty) and Belisi Gille­spie (who now teach­es clas­sics at Agnes Scott Col­lege) have post­ed 118 videos on YouTube, which, when tak­en togeth­er, “present all the con­tent cov­ered in two semes­ters of a col­lege-lev­el Intro­duc­tion to Ancient Greek course.”

The text­book used is Greek: An Inten­sive Course. 2nd edi­tion. And if you read the blurb that accom­pa­nies each video on YouTube, you’ll find out 1) what mate­r­i­al each video cov­ers, and 2) what pages are being used in the text­book.

Made avail­able online by Har­vard’s Cen­ter for Hel­lenic Stud­ies, the playlist of Ancient Greek lessons will be added to our col­lec­tions, Learn 45+ Lan­guages Online for Free: Span­ish, Chi­nese, Eng­lish & More and 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Homer’s Ili­ad Read in the Orig­i­nal Ancient Greek

What Ancient Greek Music Sound­ed Like: Lis­ten to a Recon­struc­tion That’s “100% Accu­rate”

Intro­duc­tion to Ancient Greek His­to­ry: A Free Online Course by Yale His­to­ri­an Don­ald Kagan

The His­to­ry of Ancient Greece in 18 Min­utes: A Brisk Primer Nar­rat­ed by Bri­an Cox

 

Hear Paul McCartney’s Forgotten 1967 Movie Soundtrack, Arranged by George Martin

In 1967, a young Roger Ebert drew up a top-ten-films-of-the-year list includ­ing Bon­nie and Clyde, Blow-Up, The Grad­u­ate, A Man for All Sea­sons, and Cool Hand Luke. Lat­er, he added a few more pic­tures from this cin­e­mat­ic bumper crop that he remem­bered fond­ly, the first of which was The Fam­i­ly Way. Though sel­dom ref­er­enced today, it was a big hit in Britain — one of sev­er­al, in fact, for the twin-broth­er film­mak­ers John and Roy Boult­ing. Respon­si­ble for such nine­teen-fifties come­dies as Lucky Jim and I’m All Right Jack, the two attained in their home­land not only auteur sta­tus, but also the curi­ous posi­tion of estab­lish­ment satirists, val­i­dat­ing the insti­tu­tions of mid-cen­tu­ry Eng­lish life even as they ridiculed them.

Adapt­ed from a stage play by Alfie author Bill Naughton, The Fam­i­ly Way finds its mate­r­i­al in the tri­als of a pair of north­ern new­ly­weds who, hav­ing been fleeced by a crooked trav­el agent, end up hav­ing to spend their hon­ey­moon at home. What’s worse, giv­en their impe­cu­nious­ness, “home” meant a room in the house of the groom’s par­ents.

That 1967 was a dif­fer­ent time is also sig­naled by a scene in which the father-in-law bel­lows for his cham­ber pot, which his wife had hoped to keep hid­den from her new daugh­ter-in-law’s sen­si­tive eyes. In that role is the acclaimed per­former of Eng­lish every­man John Mills, appear­ing onscreen for the first time with his daugh­ter Hay­ley, who plays the bride. It marked her first real adult part, a kind of grad­u­a­tion from her child-actress career in pic­tures like The Par­ent Trap and That Darn Cat!

The pic­ture also boast­ed a score by Paul McCart­ney, or at any rate by Bea­t­les pro­duc­er George Mar­tin, who built upon what themes he could suc­cess­ful­ly impor­tune the seem­ing­ly writer’s-blocked Bea­t­le to bang out. Tak­ing into account that this was hap­pen­ing between Revolver and Sgt. Pep­per, it’s per­haps under­stand­able that McCart­ney would feel his cre­ative ener­gies drained by oth­er projects, but the Boult­ing broth­ers had offered a first, irre­sistible oppor­tu­ni­ty to com­pose offi­cial­ly out­side the Lennon-McCart­ney dyad. Though not with­out the charms of Mar­t­in’s orches­tral work (more of which would be heard in Yel­low Sub­ma­rine in 1969), The Fam­i­ly Way’s brief sound­track bears few obvi­ous marks of the McCart­ney musi­cal sen­si­bil­i­ty. Present on the Bea­t­les’ albums, of course, that sen­si­bil­i­ty has con­tin­ued to devel­op through­out a solo career that has out­lived the band by 56 years — and count­ing.

via Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How George Mar­tin Defined the Sound of the Bea­t­les: From String Quar­tets to Back­wards Gui­tar Solos

The Genius of Paul McCartney’s Bass Play­ing in 7 Iso­lat­ed Tracks

Paul McCart­ney Breaks Down His Most Famous Songs and Answers Most-Asked Fan Ques­tions in Two New Videos

Paul McCart­ney Explains How Bach Influ­enced “Black­bird”

Hear The Bea­t­les’ Abbey Road with Only Paul McCartney’s Bass: You Won’t Believe How Good It Sounds

A 17-Hour Chrono­log­i­cal Playlist of Bea­t­les Songs: 338 Tracks Let You Hear the Musi­cal Evo­lu­tion of the Icon­ic Band

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.


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