[screenshot by harry (do you see me?)]
One of the more interesting NMC Symposium on Mashups sessions I attended was Brian Lamb’s wholly unexpected multimedia mashup extravaganza Confessions of a Mashup Un-Artist. Held in Second Life (as you can see in the screenshot above), DJ Goldkey– as Brian is now known– put on a show you really have to listen to or watch. Any textual summary I could make would be useless. Also, Brian has provided some notes about his inspirations and sources in his blog.
What I loved about the whole thing (beyond the fact that it wasn’t another session spent watching slides pass by and beyond the content of the production itself) was the variety of reactions it received. While some just grooved to the sounds, putting their best avatar dance moves to use while peering at the video, others repeatedly asked if they were seeing and hearing what they were supposed to be, while a few were simply befuddled, mystified– even angered– by the whole thing.
I experienced a feeling very similar during this session to one I had during the opening night readings at Northern Voice– an exciting connection with the point, and product, and the why behind our use of these tools. I’m glad Jeffrey Keefer posted his thoughts about the session… not because he is wrong, but because he is in one sense completely right. Those who came to the session with certain expectations borne of a particular set of objectives motivating their attendance at the symposium– such as those expecting practical nuts and bolts of creating a mashup or those wanting to be told how mashups are useful in education or in their classroom– stood a good chance of being disappointed. And while I might not advocate for a whole conference of nothing but such performances (well, I might, but it wouldn’t really be a conference any more, which could be a good thing, and it would answer a generally different set of questions), having activities like this is a Really Good Thing. They remind us of what education is all about– not just the objectives, process and knowledge but also the product and expression.
Facts and instructions are not always– maybe not even usually– the answer. I compare this to the fact that when I’m struggling most with a vexing problem of technology, education and design, I most often turn to a book of poetry or put on some good music. I’d have a hard time coming up with a cogent theory of “application” of Coleridge to how to facilitate a class discussion, but I am keenly aware that for me there is a whole world of richness of expression and thought that ties into the way I live in and approach the world… and most of that world is in the dark, unseen and hard to quantify.
I enjoyed that Brian’s “presentation” was not to elaborate on the composition and details of a mashup and how they might be used, but to give the people attending his session a potentially powerful experience of a mashup for themselves… one whose “content”
centered on the foundational issues of culture, technology and education itself. It strikes me as a bit surprising that so many people there to learn about mashups were uncomfortable and surprised at being confronted by one, reminding me of the classic tensions between theorists and practitioners, and educators and students. Clearly we have a long way to go!