Is It Rude to Talk Over a Film? MST3K’s Mary Jo Pehl on Pretty Much Pop: A Culture Podcast #45

We live in a com­men­tary cul­ture with much appre­ci­a­tion for camp and snark, but some­thing spe­cial hap­pened in the ear­ly ’90s when Mys­tery Sci­ence The­ater 3000 pop­u­lar­ized this addi­tive form of com­e­dy, where jokes are made dur­ing a full-length or short film. Mary Jo Pehl was a writer and per­former on MST3K and has since riffed with fel­low MST3K alums for Riff­trax and Cin­e­mat­ic Titan­ic.

Mark, Eri­ca, and Bri­an briefly debate the ethics of talk­ing over some­one else’s art and then inter­view Mary Jo about how riffs get writ­ten, devel­op­ing a riff­ing style and a char­ac­ter that the audi­ence can con­nect with (do you need to include skits to estab­lish a premise for why riff­ing is hap­pen­ing?), riff­ing films you love vs. old garbage, the degree to which riff­ing has gone beyond just MST3K-asso­ci­at­ed come­di­ans, VH-1’s Pop-Up Video, and more.

Fol­low Mary Jo @MaryJoPehl.

Here are a some links to get you watch­ing riff­ing:

Dif­fer­ent teams have dif­fer­ent styles of riff­ing, so if you hate MST3K, you might want to see if you just hate those guys or hate the art form as a whole. The alums them­selves cur­rent­ly work as:

Here are a few rel­e­vant arti­cles:

Also, PROJECT: RIFF is the website/database we talk about where a guy named Andrew fig­ured out how many riffs per minute are in each MST3K episode, which char­ac­ter made the joke, and oth­er stuff.

Learn more at prettymuchpop.com. This episode includes bonus dis­cus­sion that you can only hear by sup­port­ing the pod­cast at patreon.com/prettymuchpop. This pod­cast is part of the Par­tial­ly Exam­ined Life pod­cast net­work.

Pret­ty Much Pop: A Cul­ture Pod­cast is the first pod­cast curat­ed by Open Cul­ture. Browse all Pret­ty Much Pop posts or start with the first episode.

The Expansive Vocal Range of Joni Mitchell: From the Early to Later Years

It’s quite a tes­ta­ment to Joni Mitchell’s musi­cian­ship that her “voice is arguably the most under­rat­ed aspect of her music.” So writes a con­trib­u­tor to The Range Place, an online project that ana­lyzes the vocal ranges of pop­u­lar singers. This is not to say that Mitchell’s voice is underrated—far from it—but her adven­tur­ous, deeply per­son­al lyri­cism and exper­i­men­tal song­writ­ing are how she is most often dis­tin­guished from the cohort of 60s singer-song­writ­ers who emerged from the folk scene. (She first became known as the writer of Judy Collins’ hit, “Both Sides, Now.”)

That said, there’s no mis­tak­ing her for any oth­er singer. “With very wide vibra­to, she would fre­quent­ly reach into her upper reg­is­ter com­fort­ably with a bliss­ful falset­to while still being able to reach some smooth low­er notes with ease.” You can hear exam­ples of her vocal range above, in excerpts from dozens of songs, both stu­dio and live ver­sions, record­ed through­out her career. “She was a mez­zo-sopra­no through the late six­ties and sev­en­ties, with her voice stand­ing out among oth­er singer-song­writ­ers due to its unusu­al com­fort in the fifth octave.”

There are many oth­er qual­i­ties that set Mitchell’s voice apart, includ­ing her incred­i­ble sense of pitch and rhythm. As ses­sion singer and vocal coach Jaime Bab­bitt writes, “singers who study singing and play instru­ments that make chords are bet­ter than all the rest. Joni Mitchell played many: dul­cimer, gui­tar, piano, and flute, even ukulele as a child.” Mitchell’s instru­men­tal skill gave her pre­cise vocal tim­ing, “a crit­i­cal and often over­looked singer-skill,” and one that con­tributes huge­ly to a vocal per­for­mance.

Her love of jazz infus­es even her folki­est songs with rhyth­mic vocal pat­terns that run up and down the scale. (Hear an exam­ple in the iso­lat­ed vocals from 1971’s “Riv­er,” just above.) Just as every singer’s voice will do, Mitchell’s range nar­rowed with age. “Her voice nowa­days,” writes The Range Place (though she no longer per­forms), “is clos­er to that of a con­tral­to than to that of a mez­zo-sopra­no, hav­ing low­ered sub­stan­tial­ly more than oth­er singers from the seventies”—a like­ly out­come of her life­long smok­ing habit.

It’s com­mon to say of an old­er singer that “she can’t hit the high notes any­more,” but this judg­ment miss­es out on the rich­ness of a mature voice. Mitchell’s “indomitable tech­nique” nev­er wavered in her lat­er years, Paul Tay­lor argues at The Inde­pen­dent. Her lat­er voice was “stun­ning (bereft, bewil­dered, sto­ical),” trans­formed from the ambi­tious, pierc­ing falset­to to “radiant/rueful” and wise.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Joni Mitchell Sing an Immac­u­late Ver­sion of Her Song “Coy­ote,” with Bob Dylan, Roger McGuinn & Gor­don Light­foot (1975)

See Clas­sic Per­for­mances of Joni Mitchell from the Very Ear­ly Years–Before She Was Even Named Joni Mitchell (1965/66)

How Joni Mitchell Wrote “Wood­stock,” the Song that Defined the Leg­endary Music Fes­ti­val, Even Though She Wasn’t There (1969)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

J.K. Rowling Is Publishing Her New Children’s Novel Free Online, One Chapter Per Day

Image via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

J.K. Rowl­ing may be the queen of chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture, but how many of her fans have noticed she has­n’t pub­lished a book for chil­dren in near­ly thir­teen years? Today’s twen­tysome­things will recall fond­ly the sum­mer of 2007, when they descend­ed upon book­stores for their copy, or copies, of the con­clud­ing vol­ume of the Har­ry Pot­ter series. There­after Rowl­ing, no doubt eager to write for an audi­ence clos­er to her own age, put out the bleak social com­e­dy The Casu­al Vacan­cy and a series of crime thrillers under the pseu­do­nym Robert Gal­braith. Rowl­ing’s lat­est Gal­braith nov­el Trou­bled Blood is sched­uled for pub­li­ca­tion in the fall of this year, but the cur­rent gen­er­a­tion of young read­ers can enjoy her new fairy tale The Ick­abog online now as she seri­al­izes it for free over the next two months.

“The idea for The Ick­abog came to me while I was still writ­ing Har­ry Pot­ter,” says Rowl­ing in an intro­duc­to­ry post on her own web site. Hav­ing writ­ten “most of a first draft in fits and starts between Pot­ter books,” she end­ed up shelv­ing it for near­ly a decade. “Over time I came to think of it as a sto­ry that belonged to my two younger chil­dren, because I’d read it to them in the evenings when they were lit­tle, which has always been a hap­py fam­i­ly mem­o­ry.”

The unfin­ished man­u­script came back to mind more recent­ly as a pos­si­ble enter­tain­ment for chil­dren in coro­n­avirus lock­down all over the world. “As I worked to fin­ish the book, I start­ed read­ing chap­ters night­ly to the fam­i­ly again. This was one of the most extra­or­di­nary expe­ri­ences of my writ­ing life.”

With the work now com­plete, Rowl­ing will “be post­ing a chap­ter (or two, or three) every week­day between 26th May and 10th July on The Ick­abog web­site.” The first chap­ter, which is avail­able now, begins as fol­lows:

Once upon a time, there was a tiny coun­try called Cor­nu­copia, which had been ruled for cen­turies by a long line of fair-haired kings. The king at the time of which I write was called King Fred the Fear­less. He’d announced the ‘Fear­less’ bit him­self, on the morn­ing of his coro­na­tion, part­ly because it sound­ed nice with ‘Fred’, but also because he’d once man­aged to catch and kill a wasp all by him­self, if you didn’t count five foot­men and the boot boy.

This prose will feel famil­iar to par­ents who grew up read­ing Har­ry Pot­ter them­selves, and who will sure­ly be pleased to see Rowl­ing’s sig­na­ture sense of humo(u)r still in effect. These par­ents can read The Ick­abog’s week­ly install­ments to their own chil­dren, as well as encour­age those artis­ti­cal­ly inclined to con­tribute their own visu­als to the sto­ry by par­tic­i­pat­ing in the Ick­abog illus­tra­tion com­pe­ti­tion. “Cre­ativ­i­ty, inven­tive­ness and effort are the most impor­tant things,” Rowl­ing notes. “We aren’t nec­es­sar­i­ly look­ing for the most tech­ni­cal skill!” She also empha­sizes, as regards the sto­ry itself, that though its themes include “truth and the abuse of pow­er,” it “isn’t intend­ed to be read as a response to any­thing that’s hap­pen­ing in the world right now.” Many fac­tors have con­tributed to Rowl­ing’s great suc­cess, but her pref­er­ence for the time­less over the top­i­cal sure­ly isn’t a minor one. Read her sto­ry here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How J.K. Rowl­ing Plot­ted Har­ry Pot­ter with a Hand-Drawn Spread­sheet

J.K. Rowl­ing Pub­lish­es New Har­ry Pot­ter Sto­ry About the Malev­o­lent Dolores Umbridge

J.K. Rowl­ing Defends Don­ald Trump’s Right to Be “Offen­sive and Big­ot­ed”

J.K. Rowl­ing Tells Har­vard Grads Why Suc­cess Begins with Fail­ure

Clas­sic Children’s Books Now Dig­i­tized and Put Online: Revis­it Vin­tage Works from the 19th & 20th Cen­turies

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

This Is What an 1869 MIT Entrance Exam Looks Like: Could You Have Passed the Test?

The late 19th Cen­tu­ry was the time of Charles Dar­win and James Clerk Maxwell, of Thomas Edi­son and Alexan­der Gra­ham Bell. It was a gold­en age of sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy. So you might won­der how hard it was to get into one of the top tech­ni­cal uni­ver­si­ties in that era.

The answer, accord­ing to this video? Not very hard.

At least that was the case in 1869 at the Mass­a­chu­setts Insti­tute of Tech­nol­o­gy, or MIT,  as the young Aus­tralian sci­ence and math teacher Toby Hendy explains on her excel­lent YouTube chan­nel, Tibees. MIT was brand new and des­per­ate for tuition rev­enue in 1869, so the object of the test was­n’t to whit­tle a mas­sive field of appli­cants down to a man­age­able size. It was sim­ply to make sure that incom­ing stu­dents could han­dle the work.

MIT opened in 1865, just after the end of the Civ­il War. The idea was to cre­ate a Euro­pean-style poly­tech­nic uni­ver­si­ty to meet the demands of an increas­ing­ly indus­tri­al econ­o­my. The orig­i­nal cam­pus was in Boston, across the Charles Riv­er from its cur­rent loca­tion in Cam­bridge. Only 15 stu­dents signed up in 1865. Tuition was $100 for the whole year. There was no for­mal entrance test. Accord­ing to an arti­cle from the school’s Archives and Spe­cial Col­lec­tions,

The “con­di­tions for admis­sion” sec­tion of MIT’s cat­a­logue for 1865–66 indi­cates that can­di­dates for admis­sion as first year stu­dents must be at least six­teen years old and must give sat­is­fac­to­ry evi­dence “by exam­i­na­tion or oth­er­wise” of a com­pe­tent train­ing in arith­metic, geom­e­try, Eng­lish gram­mar, geog­ra­phy, and the “rudi­ments of French.” Rapid and leg­i­ble hand­writ­ing was also stressed as being “par­tic­u­lar­ly impor­tant.” By 1869 the hand­writ­ing require­ment and French had been dropped, but alge­bra had been added and stu­dents need­ed to pass a qual­i­fy­ing exam in the required sub­ject areas. An ancil­lary effect was to pro­tect unqual­i­fied stu­dents from dis­ap­point­ment and pro­fes­sors from wast­ing their time.

A cou­ple of years ear­li­er, in 1867, the MIT Exec­u­tive Com­mit­tee report­ed that fac­ul­ty mem­bers had felt it nec­es­sary to ask par­ents of “some incom­pe­tent and inat­ten­tive stu­dents to with­draw them from the school, wish­ing to spare them the mor­ti­fi­ca­tion of an exam­i­na­tion which it was cer­tain they could not pass.”

Nowa­days, the stu­dents who make it into MIT have aver­age SAT and ACT scores in the 99th per­centile. Of 21,312 first-year appli­cants hop­ing to join the Class of 2023, only 1,427 made it. That’s an admis­sion rate of 6.7 per­cent. What a dif­fer­ence 150 years can make!

To take the 1869 entrance exam­i­na­tion in Eng­lish, Alge­bra, Geom­e­try and Arith­metic, and to see the cor­rect answers, vis­it this cached arti­cle from the MIT web­site.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Math Cours­es

Albert Ein­stein’s Grades: A Fas­ci­nat­ing Look at His Report Cards

Teacher Calls Jacques Der­ri­da’s Col­lege Admis­sion Essay on Shake­speare “Quite Incom­pre­hen­si­ble” (1951)

The 135 Best Podcasts to Enrich Your Mind: An Introduction to Our New List

Twen­ty years ago, pod­casts did­n’t exist. Fif­teen years ago, pod­casts were more or less entire­ly for the tech-savvy ear­ly adopter, lis­ten­er and pro­duc­er alike. Now, across large sec­tions of soci­ety, pod­casts have become every­one’s favorite thing to lis­ten to. Just yes­ter­day the New York Times ran a piece head­lined “Joe Rogan Is the New Main­stream Media” about the enor­mous suc­cess of the come­di­an, mixed mar­tial arts enthu­si­ast, and inter­view­er now pop­u­lar­ly seen as the face of pod­cast­ing. “Even books on tape can require too much think­ing,” the arti­cle quotes Rogan as say­ing. But a pod­cast “doesn’t require that much think­ing at all. You get cap­ti­vat­ed by the con­ver­sa­tion,” not least because “it’s real­ly easy to lis­ten to while you do oth­er stuff.”

Char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly, Rogan down­plays the strengths and impor­tance of his medi­um. But requir­ing think­ing and encour­ag­ing think­ing are indeed two very dif­fer­ent things, and in the lat­ter aspect pod­casts are now unsur­passed, com­pared to oth­er inter­net media. Of course, much of the com­pe­ti­tion — lis­ti­cles, cat videos, Tik­Toks — may not seem espe­cial­ly strong, but pod­cast­ing’s com­bi­na­tion of the oft-praised “inti­ma­cy” of radio and free­dom from the tem­po­ral or demo­graph­ic lim­i­ta­tions of tra­di­tion­al broad­cast media has proven unex­pect­ed­ly potent. In fact, human­i­ty’s crav­ing for pod­casts is such that, for more than a decade now, there have been too many to choose from. To help guide you through this embar­rass­ment of audio rich­es, we’ve put togeth­er this list of the 135 best pod­casts to enrich your mind, tai­lored just for you, the Open Cul­ture read­er.

As of this writ­ing, Open Cul­ture’s pod­cast col­lec­tion breaks down into twelve cat­e­gories, from “art, design and fash­ion” and “music, TV, and film,” to “his­to­ry and phi­los­o­phy,” to “busi­ness and econ­o­my” and “per­son­al devel­op­ment.” You’ll find shows you’ve prob­a­bly heard of, like 99 Per­cent Invis­i­bleThe New York­er Radio Hour, Freako­nom­ics Radio, and This Amer­i­can Life. You may well also find show that you haven’t: if you’ve nev­er tuned into an episode of Enti­tled Opin­ionsThe Truth, Phi­los­o­phize This!, or Ben­ja­men Walk­er’s The­o­ry of Every­thing, you owe it to your­self to sam­ple a few today. And if you haven’t yet heard Pret­ty Much Pop, a pod­cast curat­ed by Open Cul­ture, why not start with its debut dis­cus­sion on “pop cul­ture” ver­sus “high cul­ture,” or its chat with yours tru­ly on the film of Mar­tin Scors­ese? Final­ly, you will also find a slew of audio dramas–a rein­ven­tion of an old form that Orson Welles made famous dur­ing the 1930s–fea­tur­ing the likes of Rami Malek, Cather­ine Keen­er, Tim Rob­bins and more. (See our post yes­ter­day on that.)

Luck­i­ly, among the glo­ries of pod­casts is the fact that almost all of them are com­plete­ly free, allow­ing you to fill even your most iso­lat­ed days — and in this era of COVID-19, some of us have had more than a few — with a non­stop flow of stim­u­lat­ing con­ver­sa­tion, rich sto­ry­telling, and bound­ary-push­ing uses of speech, music, and sound. Giv­en the pop­u­lar­i­ty of pod­cast­ing, you almost cer­tain­ly lis­ten to a few shows we haven’t yet includ­ed in our col­lec­tion. Feel free to make rec­om­men­da­tions in the com­ments below, even if — and per­haps espe­cial­ly if — they don’t fit into the cat­e­gories list­ed so far. And if your favorite sub­ject has a Joe Rogan of its own, we cer­tain­ly want to know who it is. Explore the col­lec­tion here: The 150 Best Pod­casts to Enrich Your Mind.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Stream 61 Hours of Orson Welles’ Clas­sic 1930s Radio Plays: War of the Worlds, Heart of Dark­ness & More

Audi­ble Pro­vid­ing Free Audio Books to Kids & Teens: Intro­duc­ing the New Ser­vice, Audi­ble Sto­ries

1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

Clare Torry’s Rare Live Performances of “Great Gig in the Sky” with Pink Floyd

When Clare Tor­ry went into the stu­dio to record her now-leg­endary vocals for Pink Floyd’s “Great Gig in the Sky,” the cen­ter­piece of 1973’s Dark Side of the Moon, nei­ther the singer nor the band were par­tic­u­lar­ly impressed with each oth­er. David Gilmour remem­bered the moment in an inter­view on the album’s 30th anniver­sary:

Clare Tor­ry did­n’t real­ly look the part. She was Alan Par­sons’ idea. We want­ed to put a girl on there, scream­ing orgas­mi­cal­ly. Alan had worked with her pre­vi­ous­ly, so we gave her try. And she was fan­tas­tic. We had to encour­age her a lit­tle bit. We gave her some dynam­ic hints: “Maybe you’d like to do this piece qui­et­ly, and this piece loud­er.” She did maybe half a dozen takes, and then after­wards we com­piled the final per­for­mance out of all the bits. It was­n’t done in one sin­gle take.

Asked the fol­low-up ques­tion “what did she look like?,” Gilmour replied, “like a nice Eng­lish house­wife.”

Tor­ry, for her part, was hard­ly starstruck. “If it had been the Kinks,” she lat­er said, “I’d have been over the moon.” She also remem­bers the ses­sion very  dif­fer­ent­ly. “They had no idea” what they want­ed,” she says. Told only “we don’t want any words,” she decid­ed to “pre­tend to be an instru­ment.” She remem­bers “hav­ing a lit­tle go” and knock­ing out the ses­sion in a cou­ple takes.

This Rashomon sce­nario involves not only faulty mem­o­ry but also the legal ques­tion as to who com­posed the song’s melody and vocal concept—a ques­tion even­tu­al­ly decid­ed, in 2004, in Torry’s favor, enti­tling her to roy­al­ties.

She clear­ly wasn’t about to become a tour­ing mem­ber of the band, even after the album’s mas­sive suc­cess and two sub­se­quent tours. Still, while Tor­ry may not have suit­ed Gilmour’s phys­i­cal pref­er­ences for female singers, and while she may not have thought much of Pink Floyd, she has appeared live with their dif­fer­ent iter­a­tions over the years, includ­ing a show at the Rain­bow The­atre in Lon­don just months after the album’s release (fur­ther up). Lat­er, in 1987, Tor­ry appeared again, this time with Roger Waters at Wem­b­ley Sta­di­um on his K.A.O.S. on the Road Tour.

Tor­ry would then join the David Gilmour-led Pink Floyd in 1990 for “Great Gig in the Sky” at Kneb­worth. I do not think she resem­bles an Eng­lish house­wife in the con­cert film at the top—or at least no more than the rest of the band look like mid­dle-aged Eng­lish hus­bands. But she still pulls off the soar­ing vocal, more or less, sev­en­teen years after she first stepped into the stu­dio, hav­ing lit­tle idea who Pink Floyd was or what would become of that fate­ful ses­sion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear How Clare Torry’s Vocals on Pink Floyd’s “The Great Gig in the Sky” Made the Song Go from Pret­ty Good to Down­right Great

Pink Floyd Stream­ing Free Clas­sic Con­cert Films, Start­ing with 1994’s Pulse, the First Live Per­for­mance of Dark Side of the Moon in Full

Watch Doc­u­men­taries on the Mak­ing of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

A Nearly Impossible Sudoku Puzzle Solved in a Mesmerizing 25-Minute Video

Watch it go. And thank Simon Antho­ny when it’s done. And, oh, check out his YouTube Chan­nel, Crack­ing the Cryp­tic

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

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!

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This Huge Crashing Wave in a Seoul Aquarium Is Actually a Gigantic Optical Illusion

I live in Seoul, and when­ev­er I’m back in the West, I hear the same ques­tion over and over: what’s Gang­nam like? Pre­sum­ably West­ern­ers would­n’t have had any­thing to ask me before the viral­i­ty of “Gang­nam Style,” and specif­i­cal­ly of the music video sat­i­riz­ing the image of that part of the Kore­an cap­i­tal. In Kore­an, “Gang­nam” lit­er­al­ly means “south of the riv­er,” the water­way in ques­tion being the Han Riv­er, which runs through mod­ern Seoul much as the Thames and the Seine run through Lon­don and Paris. Devel­oped in the main only since the 1970s, after Kore­a’s unprece­dent­ed­ly rapid indus­tri­al­iza­tion had begun, Gang­nam looks and feels quite dif­fer­ent from the old city north of the Han. In the finan­cial cen­ter of Gang­nam, every­thing’s big­ger, taller, and more expen­sive — all of it meant to impress.

With Psy’s nov­el­ty song a thing of the dis­tant past — in inter­net years, at least — the world now thrills again to anoth­er glimpse of Gang­nam style: a dig­i­tal screen that looks like a giant water tank, full of waves per­pet­u­al­ly crash­ing against its walls. When video of this high-tech opti­cal illu­sion went viral, it looked even more uncan­ny to me than it did to most view­ers, since I rec­og­nized it from real life.

Though I hap­pen to live in Gang­buk (“north of the riv­er”), when­ev­er I go to Gang­nam, I usu­al­ly come out of the Sam­sung sub­way sta­tion, right across the street from COEX. A con­ven­tion-cen­ter com­plex embed­ded in a set of dif­fi­cult-to-nav­i­gate malls, COEX also includes SM Town COEX Artium, a flashy tem­ple of K‑pop run by music com­pa­ny SM Enter­tain­ment. Announc­ing SM Town’s pres­ence, this colos­sal wrap­around dis­play, the largest of its kind in the coun­try, usu­al­ly offers up either fresh-faced pop stars or ads for Kore­an-made cars.

Occa­sion­al­ly the SM Town screen’s pro­gram­ming gets more cre­ative, and “#1_WAVE with Anamor­phic illu­sion” has made the most strik­ing use of its shape and dimen­sions yet. Designed by Gang­nam’s own d’strict, this piece of pub­lic video art “serves as a sweet escape and brings com­fort and relax­ation to peo­ple” — or so says d’stric­t’s Sean Lee in an inter­view with Bored Pan­da’s Rober­tas Lisick­is. It’s even impressed Seoulites, accus­tomed though they’ve grown to large-scale video screens clam­or­ing for their atten­tion. Even up in Gang­buk, the LED-cov­ered facade of the build­ing right across from Seoul Sta­tion has turned into a “Dig­i­tal Can­vas” every night for near­ly a decade. Though that artis­tic instal­la­tion nev­er dis­plays adver­tis­ing, most of the increas­ing­ly large screens of Seoul are used for more overt­ly com­mer­cial pur­pos­es. There may be some­thing dystopi­an about this scale of dig­i­tal adver­tise­ment tech­nol­o­gy in pub­lic space — but as every Blade Run­ner fan knows, there’s some­thing sub­lime about it as well.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The MIT “Check­er Shad­ow Illu­sion” Brought to Life

Watch Mar­cel Duchamp’s Hyp­not­ic Rotore­liefs: Spin­ning Discs Cre­at­ing Opti­cal Illu­sions on a Turntable (1935)

M.C. Escher’s Per­pet­u­al Motion Water­fall Brought to Life: Real or Sleight of Hand?

Google Puts Online 10,000 Works of Street Art from Across the Globe

China’s New Lumi­nous White Library: A Strik­ing Visu­al Intro­duc­tion

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.