Watch Videos for 10 Songs on Brian Eno’s Brand New Album, FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE

Those who have only casu­al­ly appre­ci­at­ed Bri­an Eno’s music may not think of him as a singer. Giv­en that his best-known solo record­ing Music for Air­ports not only has no lyrics but con­tains few rec­og­niz­able instru­ments, that per­cep­tion makes a cer­tain amount of sense. Still, it’s incor­rect: in fact, Eno has a great enthu­si­asm for singing, and indeed he has cred­it­ed the prac­tice with devel­op­ing “a good fig­ure, a sta­ble tem­pera­ment, increased intel­li­gence, new friends, super self-con­fi­dence, height­ened sex­u­al attrac­tive­ness and a bet­ter sense of humor” — though that last is sure­ly on dis­play in the remark itself.

Though Eno may still be most wide­ly con­sid­ered a pio­neer or pop­u­lar­iz­er of ambi­ent music, a lis­ten through his discog­ra­phy will reveal how well his singing skills have served him for near­ly half a cen­tu­ry now. Released just last month, his new album FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE marks a return to lyri­cal songs, a form he has­n’t prac­ticed on an album since 2005’s Anoth­er Day on Earth.

As the now-74-year-old Eno says in its press mate­ri­als, “My voice has changed, it’s low­ered, it’s become a dif­fer­ent per­son­al­i­ty I can sing from. I don’t want to sing like a teenag­er.” And “as for writ­ing songs again — it’s more land­scapes, but this time with humans in them.” He’s been describ­ing his music and art this way for quite some time: here on Open Cul­ture, we’ve even fea­tured a 1989 doc­u­men­tary about it called Imag­i­nary Land­scapes.

Judg­ing by some of FOREVERAN­DE­V­ER­NOMORE’s lyrics, not to men­tion its title, the land­scapes he per­ceives seem to have become frag­ile; none of them, per­haps, are now espe­cial­ly long for exis­tence. That impres­sion may well be under­scored by the three song videos col­lect­ed in this playlist, “Gar­den of Stars,” “We Let It In,” and “There Were Bells.” Each has its own style: the first is kalei­do­scop­ic, the sec­ond is ver­bal, and the third is a full-fledged live shoot fea­tur­ing Eno and his broth­er-col­lab­o­ra­tor Roger per­form­ing amid the ruins of the Acrop­o­lis of Athens. Giv­en Eno’s pen­chant for con­cepts nov­el, expan­sive, and con­tra­dic­to­ry, one might call the sen­si­bil­i­ty of this lat­est album a kind of opti­mistic Ozy­man­di­an­ism.

Below you can also watch a playlist of ani­mat­ed tracks (or “visu­al­iz­ers”) for ten songs on the new album.

via Boing­Bo­ing
Relat­ed con­tent:

The Bri­an Eno Discog­ra­phy: Stream 29 Hours of Record­ings by the Mas­ter of Ambi­ent Music

Ambi­ent Kyoto: Bri­an Eno Stages His First Large-Scale Exhi­bi­tion in Japan

When David Bowie & Bri­an Eno Made a Twin Peaks-Inspired Album, Out­side (1995)

Decon­struct­ing Bri­an Eno’s Music for Air­ports: Explore the Tape Loops That Make Up His Ground­break­ing Ambi­ent Music

Hear Bri­an Eno Sing The Bea­t­les’ “Tomor­row Nev­er Knows” as Part of The Best Live Album of the Glam/Prog Era (1976)

Bri­an Eno Lists the Ben­e­fits of Singing: A Long Life, Increased Intel­li­gence, and a Sound Civ­i­liza­tion

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

A Tour of Studio Ghibli’s Brand New Theme Park in Japan, Which Re-Creates the Worlds of Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro, and Other Classics

Two and a half years ago, we fea­tured the con­cept art for Stu­dio Ghi­b­li’s theme park here on Open Cul­ture, and just two weeks ago it opened its doors. Locat­ed on the grounds of Expo 2005 in Japan’s Aichi Pre­fec­ture (a three- to four-hour train trip west from Tokyo, or a two-hour train trip east of Osa­ka), Ghi­b­li Park com­pris­es sev­er­al themed areas like the Grand Ware­house, the Hill of Youth, and Don­doko For­est. Just hear­ing those names sure­ly fires up the imag­i­na­tions of many a Ghi­b­li fan, even before they hear about the park’s vis­i­tor-ready recon­struc­tions of every­thing from Cas­tle in the Sky’s ruined gar­dens to Whis­per of the Heart’s antique shop to My Neigh­bor Totoro’s Cat­bus.

“Unlike Dis­ney­land, Ghi­b­li Park does not fea­ture roller coast­ers or rides,” writes My Mod­ern Met’s Margheri­ta Cole. “Instead, it wel­comes vis­i­tors to immerse them­selves in life-size sets that are har­mo­nious­ly inte­grat­ed with nature.” You can get a sense of how this con­cept has been exe­cut­ed in the fif­teen-minute video at the top of the post from Japan-based trav­el vlog­gers Didi and Bryan.

In it, they pass through the afore­men­tioned spaces as well as oth­ers includ­ing Cin­e­ma Ori­on, which screens ten short films once only view­able at the Ghi­b­li Muse­um, and the Siberia milk stand, which offers the epony­mous sponge cake from The Wind Ris­es, Ghi­b­li mas­ter­mind Hayao Miyaza­k­i’s final ani­mat­ed fea­ture — or rather, his penul­ti­mate ani­mat­ed fea­ture.

The repeat­ed­ly un-retired Miyaza­ki returned to the stu­dio in 2016 to begin a film called How Do You Live?. Though the COVID-19 pan­dem­ic slowed down its pro­duc­tion by forc­ing him and his col­lab­o­ra­tors to work from home, it seems not to have thrown the new theme park’s con­struc­tion far off track. In three years’ time, Cole writes, “Ghi­b­li Park will open its last two sec­tions — Mononoke no sato (‘Mononoke Vil­lage’) and Majo no tani (‘Val­ley of the Witch’) — which are ded­i­cat­ed to the films Princess Mononoke and Kik­i’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice, respec­tive­ly. There may even be a future ride in store, as some of the con­cept art appears to depict spin­ning teacups inspired by Kik­i’s cat Jiji.” That will require care­ful design­ing: a cer­tain oth­er ani­ma­tion stu­dio with long-stand­ing theme parks has a teacup ride of its own — and lit­tle patience for appar­ent imi­ta­tors, no mat­ter the artis­tic heights to which they soar.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Releas­es Tan­ta­liz­ing Con­cept Art for Its New Theme Park, Open­ing in Japan in 2022

A Vir­tu­al Tour Inside the Hayao Miyazaki’s Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Muse­um

Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Makes 1,178 Images Free to Down­load from My Neigh­bor Totoro, Spir­it­ed Away & Oth­er Beloved Ani­mat­ed Films

Hayao Miyaza­ki, The Mind of a Mas­ter: A Thought­ful Video Essay Reveals the Dri­ving Forces Behind the Animator’s Incred­i­ble Body of Work

Watch Hayao Miyazaki’s Beloved Char­ac­ters Enter the Real World

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

When the World Got Introduced to the Amazing Compact Disc (CD) in 1982

The first com­pact discs and play­ers came out in Octo­ber of 1982. That means the for­mat is now 40 years old, which in turn means that most avid music-lis­ten­ers have nev­er known a world with­out it. In fact, all of today’s teenagers — that most musi­cal­ly avid demo­graph­ic — were born after the CD’s com­mer­cial peak in 2002, and to them, no phys­i­cal medi­um could be more passé. Vinyl records have been enjoy­ing a long twen­ty-first-cen­tu­ry resur­gence as a pre­mi­um prod­uct, and even cas­sette tapes exude a retro appeal. But how many under­stand just what a tech­no­log­i­cal mar­vel the CD was when it made its debut, with (what we remem­ber as) its promise of “per­fect sound for­ev­er”?

“You could argue that the CD, with its vast data capac­i­ty, rel­a­tive­ly robust nature, and with the fur­ther devel­op­ments it spurred along, changed how the world did vir­tu­al­ly all media.” So says Alec Wat­son, host of the Youtube chan­nel Tech­nol­o­gy Con­nec­tions, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture for his five-part series on RCA’s Selec­taVi­sion video disc sys­tem.

But he’s also made a six-part minis­eries on the con­sid­er­ably more suc­cess­ful com­pact disc, whose devel­op­ment “solved the cen­tral prob­lem of dig­i­tal sound: need­ing a for-the-time-absurd­ly mas­sive amount of raw data.” Back then, com­put­er hard dri­ves had a capac­i­ty of about ten megabytes, where­as a sin­gle disc could hold up to 700 megabytes.

Fig­ur­ing out how to encode that much infor­ma­tion onto a thin 120-mil­lime­ter disc required seri­ous resources and engi­neer­ing prowess (avail­able thanks to the involve­ment of two elec­tron­ics giants, Sony and Philips), but it con­sti­tut­ed only one of the tech­no­log­i­cal ele­ments need­ed for the CD to become a viable for­mat. Wat­son cov­ers them all in this minis­eries, begin­ning with the inven­tion of dig­i­tal sound itself (includ­ing the Nyquist-Shan­non sam­pling the­o­rem on which it depends). He also explains such phys­i­cal process­es as how a CD play­er’s laser reads the “pits” and “lands” on a dis­c’s sur­face, pro­duc­ing a stream of num­bers sub­se­quent­ly con­vert­ed back into an audio sig­nal for our lis­ten­ing plea­sure.

The CD has also changed our rela­tion­ship to that plea­sure. “If CDs marked a new era, it is per­haps as much in the way they sug­gest spe­cif­ic ways of inter­act­ing with record­ed music as in ques­tions of fideli­ty,” writes The Qui­etus’ Daryl Wor­thing­ton. “The fact CDs can be pro­grammed, and tracks eas­i­ly skipped, is per­haps their most sig­nif­i­cant fea­ture when it comes to their lega­cy. They loos­ened up the album as a fixed doc­u­ment.” Para­dox­i­cal­ly, “they’re also the for­mat par excel­lence for the album as a com­pre­hen­sive, self-con­tained unit to be played from start to fin­ish.” Even if you can’t remem­ber when last you put one on, four­teen mil­lion of them were sold last year, as against five mil­lion vinyl LPs and 200,000 cas­settes. At 40, the CD may no longer feel like a mirac­u­lous tech­nol­o­gy, but we can hard­ly count it out just yet.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Sto­ry of How Beethoven Helped Make It So That CDs Could Play 74 Min­utes of Music

Dis­cov­er Rare 1980s CDs by Lou Reed, Devo & Talk­ing Heads That Com­bined Music with Com­put­er Graph­ics

The Sto­ry of the Mini­Disc, Sony’s 1990s Audio For­mat That’s Gone But Not For­got­ten

When Movies Came on Vinyl: The Ear­ly-80s Engi­neer­ing Mar­vel and Mar­ket­ing Dis­as­ter That Was RCA’s Selec­taVi­sion

How Vinyl Records Are Made: A Primer from 1956

A Cel­e­bra­tion of Retro Media: Vinyl, Cas­settes, VHS, and Polaroid Too

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

The Virtue of Owning Books You Haven’t Read: Why Umberto Eco Kept an “Antilibrary”

When con­sid­er­ing whether to buy yet anoth­er book, you might well ask your­self when you’ll get around to read­ing it. But per­haps there are oth­er, even more impor­tant con­sid­er­a­tions, such as the intel­lec­tu­al val­ue of the book in its still-unread state. In our per­son­al libraries we all keep at least a few favorites, vol­umes to which we turn again and again. But what would be the use of a book col­lec­tion con­sist­ing entire­ly of books we’ve already read? This is the ques­tion put to us by the read­ing (or at least acquir­ing) life of no less a man of let­ters than Umber­to Eco, seen in the video above walk­ing through his per­son­al library of 30,000 books — a fair few of which, we can safe­ly assume, he nev­er got through.

As Nas­sim Taleb tells it, Eco sep­a­rat­ed his vis­i­tors into two cat­e­gories: “those who react with ‘Wow! Sig­nore pro­fes­sore dot­tore Eco, what a library you have. How many of these books have you read’ and the oth­ers — a very small minor­i­ty — who get the point is that a pri­vate library is not an ego-boost­ing appendages but a research tool.”

One’s library should there­fore con­tain not just what one knows, but much more of what one does­n’t yet know. “Indeed, the more you know, the larg­er the rows of unread books. Let us call this col­lec­tion of unread books an antili­brary.” This pas­sage comes from Tale­b’s The Black Swan, a book all about the human ten­den­cy — defied by Eco — to over­val­ue the known and under­val­ue the unknown.

“The antilibrary’s val­ue stems from how it chal­lenges our self-esti­ma­tion by pro­vid­ing a con­stant, nig­gling reminder of all we don’t know,” writes Big Think’s Kevin Dick­in­son. “The titles lin­ing my own home remind me that I know lit­tle to noth­ing about cryp­tog­ra­phy, the evo­lu­tion of feath­ers, Ital­ian folk­lore, illic­it drug use in the Third Reich, and what­ev­er ento­mophagy is.” The New York Times’ Kevin Mims con­nects Tale­b’s con­cept of the antili­brary to the Japan­ese con­cept of tsun­doku, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture, which cap­tures the way books tend to pile up unread in our homes. There’s noth­ing inher­ent­ly wrong with that, as long as we’ve stocked those piles with valu­able knowl­edge — and more of it than we can ever use.

via Big Think

Relat­ed con­tent:

“Tsun­doku,” the Japan­ese Word for the New Books That Pile Up on Our Shelves, Should Enter the Eng­lish Lan­guage

Watch Umber­to Eco Walk Through His Immense Pri­vate Library: It Goes On, and On, and On!

Umber­to Eco’s 36 Rules for Writ­ing Well (in Eng­lish or Ital­ian)

Umber­to Eco Explains the Poet­ic Pow­er of Charles Schulz’s Peanuts

Jorge Luis Borges Selects 74 Books for Your Per­son­al Library

How to Read Many More Books in a Year: Watch a Short Doc­u­men­tary Fea­tur­ing Some of the World’s Most Beau­ti­ful Book­stores

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

Vincent van Gogh Visits a Modern Art Gallery & Gets to See His Artistic Legacy: A Touching Scene from Doctor Who

“By the time of his death”—almost two years before, in fact—“Van Gogh’s work had begun to attract crit­i­cal atten­tion,” writes the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art, who point out that Van Gogh’s works shown “at the Salon des Indépen­dants in Paris between 1888 and 1890 and with Les XX in Brus­sels in 1890… were regard­ed by many artists as ‘the most remark­able’” in both exhibits. Crit­ics wrote glow­ing appre­ci­a­tions, and Van Gogh seemed poised to achieve the recog­ni­tion every­one knows he deserved in his life­time. Still, Van Gogh him­self was not present at these exhi­bi­tions. He was first in Arles, where he set­tled in near-seclu­sion (save for Gau­guin), after cut­ting off part of his ear. Then, in 1889, he arrived at the asy­lum near Saint-Rémy, where he furi­ous­ly paint­ed 150 can­vas­es, then shot him­self in the chest, think­ing his life’s work a fail­ure, despite the pub­lic recog­ni­tion and praise his broth­er Theo poignant­ly tried to com­mu­ni­cate to him in his final let­ters.

Now imag­ine that Van Gogh had actu­al­ly been able to expe­ri­ence the acclaim bestowed on him near the end—or the acclaim bestowed on him hun­dreds of times over in the more than 100 years since his death. Such is the premise of the clip above from Doc­tor Who, Series 5, Episode 10, in which Van Gogh—who strug­gled to sell any of his work through most of his lifetime—finds him­self at the Musée d’Or­say in Paris in 2010, cour­tesy of the TARDIS. Grant­ed, the scene milks the inher­ent pathos with some maudlin musi­cal cues, but watch­ing actor Tony Cur­ran react as Van Gogh, see­ing the gallery’s col­lec­tions of his work and the wall-to-wall admir­ers, is “unex­pect­ed­ly touch­ing,” as Kot­tke writes. To dri­ve the emo­tion­al point even fur­ther home, the Doc­tor calls over a docent played by Bill Nighy, who explains why “Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all.” Lay­ing it on thick? Fair enough. But try not get­ting a lit­tle choked up at the end, I dare you.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2016.

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:

1,000+ Art­works by Vin­cent Van Gogh Dig­i­tized & Put Online by Dutch Muse­ums: Enter Van Gogh World­wide

Mar­tin Scors­ese Plays Vin­cent Van Gogh in a Short, Sur­re­al Film by Aki­ra Kuro­sawa

Free Libraries Shaped Like Doc­tor Who’s Time-Trav­el­ing TARDIS Pop Up in Detroit, Saska­toon, Macon & Oth­er Cities

Down­load Free Doc­tor Who Back­grounds for Vir­tu­al Meet­ings (Plus Many Oth­er BBC TV Shows)

A Com­plete Archive of Vin­cent van Gogh’s Let­ters: Beau­ti­ful­ly Illus­trat­ed and Ful­ly Anno­tat­ed

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

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Joni Mitchell Tells Elton John the Stories Behind Her Iconic Songs: “Both Sides Now,” “Carey” & More

When Joni Mitchell heard the great cabaret artist Mabel Mer­cer in con­cert, she was so struck by the old­er woman’s ren­di­tion of “Both Sides Now,” the endur­ing bal­lad Mitchell wrote at the ten­der age of 23, that she went back­stage to show her appre­ci­a­tion:

… but I didn’t tell her that I was the author. So, I said, y’know, I’ve heard var­i­ous record­ings of that song, but you bring some­thing to it, y’know, that oth­er peo­ple haven’t been able to do. You know, it’s not a song for an ingenue. You have to bring some age to it. 

Well, she took offense. I insult­ed her. I called her an old lady, as far as she was con­cerned. So I got out of there in a hell of a hur­ry! 

But I think I final­ly became an old lady myself and could sing the song right.

This is just one of many can­did treats to be found in Mitchell’s inter­view with Elton John, for his Apple Music 1 show Rock­et Hour.

For the most part, Mitchell’s rem­i­nis­cences coa­lesce around var­i­ous icon­ic tracks from her near­ly six­ty years in the music indus­try.

“Carey,” off Mitchell’s 1971 album Blue, sparks mem­o­ries of an explod­ing stove dur­ing a hip­pie-era sojourn in Mata­la on Crete’s south coast, with an Odyssey ref­er­ence thrown in for good mea­sure.

“Amelia” was hatched, as were most of the tunes on 1976’s Heji­ra, while Mitchell was on a solo road trip in a sec­ond­hand Mer­cedes, an expe­ri­ence that caused her to dwell on the first female avi­a­tor to cross the Atlantic solo. (She scrib­bled down lyrics that had come to her at the wheel when­ev­er she pulled over for lunch.)

Regard­ing “Sex Kills” from 1994’s Tur­bu­lent Indi­go, John quotes a Rolling Stone arti­cle in which Mitchell dis­cussed the “ugli­ness” she was detect­ing in pop­u­lar music:

I think it’s on the increase. Espe­cial­ly towards women. I’ve nev­er been a fem­i­nist, but we haven’t had pop songs up until recent­ly that were so aggres­sive­ly dan­ger­ous to women.

“What did you mean by that?” John asks. “ Peo­ple say­ing rap music with ‘my hos’ and stuff like that?”

“Oh, well, y’know, yeah,” Mitchell says, “Hos and booty, y’know, haha­hah.”

She may not seem over­ly fussed about it now, but don’t get her start­ed on what young women wear to the Gram­mys!

John also invit­ed Mitchell to dis­cuss three songs that have influ­enced her.

Her picks:

Lam­bert, Hen­dricks & Ross’s “Charleston Alley” (a musi­cal epiphany as a high school­er at a col­lege par­ty)

Edith Piaf’s “Les Trois Cloches” (a musi­cal epiphany as an 8‑year-old at a birth­day  par­ty)

And Chuck Berry’s “John­ny B. Goode” (danc­ing ‘round the juke­box at Saska­toon swim­ming pool)

Cir­cling back to “Both Sides Now,” Mitchell prefers the orches­tral arrange­ment she record­ed as an alto in 2002 to the orig­i­nal’s girl­ish sopra­no, with its pos­si­bly unearned per­spec­tive. (“It’s not a song for an ingenue…”)

When I per­formed it, the orches­tra gath­ered around me and I’ve played with clas­si­cal musi­cians before and they were always read­ing the Wall Street Jour­nal behind their sheet music and they always treat you like it’s a con­de­scen­sion to be play­ing with you, but every­body, the men — Eng­lish­men! — were weep­ing!

Per­haps you too will be moved to tears, as singer-song­writer Bran­di Carlile was dur­ing a per­for­mance of “Both Sides Now” as part of the 2022 New­port Folk Festival’s Joni Jam, Mitchell’s first show in 22 years, owing to a peri­od of major dis­il­lu­sion­ment with the music busi­ness as well as a 2015 brain aneurysm.

Tune into more episodes of Elton John’s Rock­et Hour here.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Watch the Full Set of Joni Mitchell’s Amaz­ing Come­back Per­for­mance at the New­port Folk Fes­ti­val

Songs by Joni Mitchell Re-Imag­ined as Pulp Fic­tion Book Cov­ers & Vin­tage Movie Posters

Hear Demos & Out­takes of Joni Mitchell’s Blue on the 50th Anniver­sary of the Clas­sic Album

How Joni Mitchell Learned to Play Gui­tar Again After a 2015 Brain Aneurysm–and Made It Back to the New­port Folk Fes­ti­val

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

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine and author of Cre­ative, Not Famous: The Small Pota­to Man­i­festo and the soon to be released Cre­ative, Not Famous Activ­i­ty Book.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

How to Argue Effectively: Harvard Negotiation Expert Shares Techniques for Arguing Effectively, Especially About Politics

Big Think uploaded the video on how to argue above at the end of last month, just in time for the Unit­ed States midterm elec­tion. Where pol­i­tics — or rather, polit­i­cal­ly inflect­ed con­flicts — have become more or less anoth­er nation­al sport, every­one is always look­ing for an edge. But the expert who stars in the video, Harvard’s Inter­na­tion­al Nego­ti­a­tion pro­gram head and Nego­ti­at­ing the Non­nego­tiable author Daniel Shapiro, has an unusu­al­ly capa­cious notion of what it means to win an argu­ment. Our goal, as he con­ceives of it, is to have “more effec­tive con­ver­sa­tions,” and this entails under­stand­ing three keys to hav­ing those con­ver­sa­tions: iden­ti­ty, appre­ci­a­tion, and affil­i­a­tion.

“The moment your iden­ti­ty gets hooked in these con­flicts,” Shapiro says, “all of a sud­den your emo­tions become a hun­dred times more pow­er­ful” — and the debate at hand becomes a hun­dred times less tractable. You there­fore must “know who you are and what you stand for,” the “val­ues and beliefs” dri­ving you to argue for your par­tic­u­lar posi­tion.

Ide­al­ly, you’ll also put some effort toward find­ing out the same things about your oppo­nent, or rather your inter­locu­tor. This is where appre­ci­a­tion comes in. Shapiro’s advice: “When you’re in the midst of the con­flict, don’t talk. Take the first ten min­utes to con­scious­ly lis­ten to the oth­er side. What’s the val­ue behind their per­spec­tive? What’s the log­ic, the ratio­nale?”

This allows you to assess the “emo­tion­al con­nec­tion” between your­self and the oth­er per­son. The trick is to “turn that oth­er per­son from an adver­sary into a part­ner” by fram­ing the con­ver­sa­tion as not a con­flict but as “fac­ing a shared prob­lem,” not least by ask­ing their advice on how to solve it. You can learn more about Shapiro’s con­cept of “inter­est-based nego­ti­a­tion” in this oth­er short Big Think video, and much more about his prin­ci­ples of argu­men­ta­tion in his talk at Google just above. In it, he breaks down the ele­ments of the “tribes effect” that keeps us butting heads, includ­ing our atti­tudes about taboos and our ten­den­cy toward iden­ti­ty pol­i­tics. And all of this is espe­cial­ly valu­able view­ing, of course, with the approach of that day of din­ner-table argu­men­ta­tive blood­sport known as Thanks­giv­ing.

Relat­ed con­tent:

How to Win an Argu­ment (at the U.S. Supreme Court, or Any­where Else): A Primer by Lit­i­ga­tor Neal Katyal

Lit­er­ary The­o­rist Stan­ley Fish Offers a Free Course on Rhetoric, or the Pow­er of Argu­ments

How to Argue With Kind­ness and Care: 4 Rules from Philoso­pher Daniel Den­nett

A Guide to Log­i­cal Fal­lac­i­es: The “Ad Hominem,” “Straw­man” & Oth­er Fal­lac­i­es Explained in 2‑Minute Videos

Read An Illus­trat­ed Book of Bad Argu­ments: A Fun Primer on How to Strength­en, Not Weak­en, Your Argu­ments

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

Behold Illustrations of Every Shakespeare Play Created by Artificial Intelligence


William Shake­speare’s plays have endured not just because of their inher­ent dra­mat­ic and lin­guis­tic qual­i­ties, but also because each era has found its own way of envi­sion­ing and re-envi­sion­ing them. The tech­nol­o­gy involved in stage pro­duc­tions has changed over the past four cen­turies, of course, but so has the tech­nol­o­gy involved in art itself. A few years ago, we fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture an archive of 3,000 illus­tra­tions of Shake­speare’s com­plete works going back to the mid-nine­teenth cen­tu­ry. That site was the PhD project of Cardiff Uni­ver­si­ty’s Michael Good­man, who has recent­ly com­plet­ed anoth­er dig­i­tal Shake­speare project, this time using arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence: Paint the Pic­ture to the Word.

“Every image col­lect­ed here has been gen­er­at­ed by Sta­ble Dif­fu­sion, a pow­er­ful text-to-image AI,” writes Good­man on this new pro­jec­t’s About page. “To cre­ate an image using this tech­nol­o­gy a user sim­ply types a descrip­tion of what they want to see into a text box and the AI will then pro­duce sev­er­al images cor­re­spond­ing to that ini­tial tex­tu­al prompt,” much as with the also-new AI-based art gen­er­a­tor DALL‑E.

Each of the many images Good­man cre­at­ed is inspired by a Shake­speare play. “Some of the illus­tra­tions are expres­sion­is­tic (King John, Julius Cae­sar), while some are more lit­er­al (Mer­ry Wives of Wind­sor).” All “offer a visu­al idea or a gloss on the plays: Hen­ry VIII, with the cen­tral char­ac­ters rep­re­sent­ed in fuzzy felt, is grim­ly iron­ic, while in Per­i­cles both Mar­i­ana and her father are seen through a watery prism, echo­ing that play’s con­cern with sea imagery.”

Select­ing one of his many gen­er­at­ed images per play, Good­man has cre­at­ed an entire dig­i­tal exhi­bi­tion whose works nev­er repeat a style or a sen­si­bil­i­ty, whether with a dog-cen­tric nine­teen-eight­ies col­lage rep­re­sent­ing Two Gen­tle­men of Verona, a stark­ly near-abstract vision of Mac­beth’s Weird Sis­ters or Much Ado About Noth­ing ren­dered as a mod­ern-day rom-com. The­ater com­pa­nies could hard­ly fail to take notice of these images’ poten­tial as pro­mo­tion­al posters, but Paint the Pic­ture to the Word also demon­strates some­thing larg­er: Shake­speare’s plays have long stim­u­lat­ed human intel­li­gence, but they turn out to work on arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence as well. Vis­it Paint the Pic­ture to the Word here.

Relat­ed con­tent:

3,000 Illus­tra­tions of Shakespeare’s Com­plete Works from Vic­to­ri­an Eng­land, Neat­ly Pre­sent­ed in a New Dig­i­tal Archive

John Austen’s Haunt­ing Illus­tra­tions of Shakespeare’s Ham­let: A Mas­ter­piece of the Aes­thet­ic Move­ment (1922)

Fol­ger Shake­speare Library Puts 80,000 Images of Lit­er­ary Art Online, and They’re All Free to Use

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Brings to Life Fig­ures from 7 Famous Paint­ings: The Mona Lisa, Birth of Venus & More

DALL‑E, the New AI Art Gen­er­a­tor, Is Now Open for Every­one to Use

An AI-Gen­er­at­ed Paint­ing Won First Prize at a State Fair & Sparked a Debate About the Essence of Art

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, 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 or on Face­book.

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