Americans Visited Libraries Almost Twice as Often as They Went to the Movies Last Year, a New Survey Shows

Image via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

One recur­ring sto­ry over the past year, cov­ered by every major news out­let, asks whether stream­ing ser­vices are “killing” movie the­aters (or if they are killing them­selves). Anoth­er looks into the trend of binge-watch­ing, and the effect of an enter­tain­ment ecosys­tem built on shows that seem to stream them­selves. Giv­en the ubiq­ui­ty of this kind of cov­er­age, we might be for­giv­en for sus­pect­ing that the U.S. is turn­ing into a mass of pas­sive home view­ers trans­fixed by super­nat­ur­al thrillers, dark come­dies, real­i­ty TV, teen dra­mas, etc.….

This isn’t entire­ly the case.… While oth­ers tal­ly up the num­ber of eye­balls on var­i­ous­ly-sized screens, vet­er­an polling out­fit Gallup spent part of Decem­ber 2019 ask­ing Amer­i­cans around the coun­try what they did when they went out. Among the nine activ­i­ties they listed—including movies, con­certs, sport­ing events, muse­ums, zoos, and casinos—“visiting the library remains the most com­mon cul­tur­al activ­i­ty Amer­i­cans engage in, by far,” aver­ag­ing 10.5 vis­its per year, notes Justin McCarthy at Gallup News.

To put that “by far” into per­spec­tive, those polled report­ed, on aver­age, going to the library almost twice as often as going to the movies, the sec­ond-place activ­i­ty, over the past year. But as with all such polling data, we should not draw hasty con­clu­sions with­out look­ing at specifics. Gallup breaks down the demo­graph­ics by gen­der, age, income, region, and by house­holds with and with­out chil­dren. Sur­pris­ing­ly, they found very lit­tle dif­fer­ence between the lat­ter two groups’ report­ed library trips.

Among the oth­er cat­e­gories, we find that women report­ed going to libraries almost twice as often as men; that peo­ple between 18–29 report going over twice as often as those between 50–64—perhaps due to col­lege assign­ments; and that low income house­holds report going at much high­er rates than those in high­er brack­ets. “Cost seems to be a fac­tor dri­ving these trends,” writes Brig­it Katz at Smith­son­ian. “Vis­it­ing the library is free, as are the vari­ety of ser­vices libraries offer, includ­ing Wi-Fi.”

Indeed, “29 per­cent of library-going Amer­i­cans over the age of 16 went to use com­put­ers, the inter­net or a pub­lic Wi-Fi net­work.” Libraries are places to gain access to cul­tur­al expe­ri­ences that can be cost-pro­hib­i­tive else­where: to take free class­es and enjoy free movies, music, and, yes, books. The num­ber of aver­age vis­its has remained unchanged since a sim­i­lar poll in 2001, “sug­gest­ing libraries are as pop­u­lar now as they were at the turn of the mil­len­ni­um.” Trips to the movies, on the oth­er hand, are down an aver­age of 1.3 vis­its.

Make of the data what you will in the full break­down at Gallup News. The tele­phone sur­vey has a very small sam­ple size—1,024 adults in all 50 states—which may not be at all rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the whole. Nonethe­less, McCarthy con­cludes that “despite the pro­lif­er­a­tion of dig­i­tal-based activ­i­ties over the past two decades… libraries have endured.” May they con­tin­ue to do so, and to serve the needs of all Amer­i­cans, espe­cial­ly those who might oth­er­wise have lit­tle access to the kinds of knowl­edge, infor­ma­tion, and cul­ture that libraries stew­ard.

via Smith­son­ian

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The New York Pub­lic Library Announces the Top 10 Checked-Out Books of All Time

Free Col­or­ing Books from World-Class Libraries & Muse­ums: Down­load & Col­or Hun­dreds of Free Images

Libraries & Archivists Are Dig­i­tiz­ing 480,000 Books Pub­lished in 20th Cen­tu­ry That Are Secret­ly in the Pub­lic Domain

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

What Happened Hazel Scott? Meet the Brilliant Jazz Musician & Activist Who Disappeared into Obscurity When She Was Blacklisted During the McCarthy Era

Women in the enter­tain­ment busi­ness who have tak­en a stand against racism and state vio­lence and oppres­sion have often found their careers ruined as a result, their albums and per­for­mances boy­cotted, oppor­tu­ni­ties rescind­ed. This, accord­ing to Nina Simone, is what hap­pened to her after she began her fight for Civ­il Rights with the fero­cious “Mis­sis­sip­pi God­dam.” She con­tin­ued per­form­ing in Europe until the 1990s, but her cul­tur­al stock in her own coun­try declined after the 60s. She was large­ly unknown to younger gen­er­a­tions until Lau­ryn Hill and lat­er hip hop artists turned her music into a “secret weapon.”

Maybe the music of Hazel Scott will enjoy a sim­i­lar revival now that her name has been returned to pop­u­lar con­scious­ness by Ali­cia Keys, who paid trib­ute to Scott at last year’s Gram­mys. Once the biggest star in jazz, Scott’s career was destroyed by the House Un-Amer­i­can Activ­i­ties Com­mit­tee (HUAC) in the 1950s when a pub­li­ca­tion called Red Chan­nels accused her of Com­mu­nist sym­pa­thies. Black­list­ed, she moved to Paris and per­formed exclu­sive­ly in Europe until the mid-six­ties. As with many an artist who suf­fered this fate dur­ing the Cold War, Scott stood accused of anti-Amer­i­can­ism not for any actu­al sup­port of the Sovi­ets but because she chal­lenged racial seg­re­ga­tion and dis­crim­i­na­tion at home.

Born in Trinidad and raised by her moth­er in New York City, like Simone, Scott was a clas­si­cal­ly trained child prodi­gy (see her play jazz-infused Liszt for World War II sol­diers in the video below), whose ear­ly, some­times vio­lent, expe­ri­ences with racism left last­ing scars. She audi­tioned for Jul­liard at age 8. “When she fin­ished,” writes Loris­sa Rine­heart at Nar­ra­tive­ly, “the audi­tions direc­tor whis­pered, ‘I am in the pres­ence of a genius.” Jul­liard founder Frank Dam­rosch agreed, and she was admit­ted.

Scott’s moth­er Alma, her­self a jazz musi­cian, “befriend­ed some of the Harlem Renaissance’s bright­est stars,” and the young Scott grew up sur­round­ed by the lead­ing lights of jazz. When she got her big break at 19, tak­ing over a three-week engage­ment for Bil­lie Hol­i­day, she imme­di­ate­ly joined the ranks of Harlem’s finest.

As it turned out, not only was Scott a bril­liant pianist, she also had a hell of a voice: deep and sonorous, com­fort­ing yet provoca­tive — the sort of singing style that makes you want to embrace the sub­lime melan­choly that is love and life and whiskey on a midwinter’s night.

She was flown to Hol­ly­wood in the ear­ly 40s to appear in musi­cals, but refused to coun­te­nance the usu­al racist stereo­types in film. Rel­e­gat­ed to bit parts, she returned to New York. “I had antag­o­nized the head of Colum­bia Pic­tures,” she wrote in her jour­nal. “In short, com­mit­ted sui­cide.” But she con­tin­ued her activism, and her career con­tin­ued to thrive. Final­ly, “she came to break the col­or bar­ri­er on the small screen” becom­ing the first black woman to host her own show in 1950. “Three nights a week, Scott played her sig­na­ture mix of boo­gie-woo­gie, clas­sics, and jazz stan­dards to liv­ing rooms across Amer­i­ca. It was a land­mark moment.”

And it was not to last. That same year, Scott vol­un­tary appeared before HUAC to answer the sup­posed charges against her, remain­ing calm in the face of hours of ques­tion­ing and read­ing an elo­quent pre­pared state­ment. “It has nev­er been my prac­tice to choose the pop­u­lar course,” she said. “When oth­ers lie as nat­u­ral­ly as they breathe, I become frus­trat­ed and angry.” She con­clud­ed “with one request—and that is that your com­mit­tee pro­tect those Amer­i­cans who have hon­est­ly, whole­some­ly, and unselfish­ly tried to per­fect this coun­try and make the guar­an­tees in our Con­sti­tu­tion live. The actors, musi­cians, artists, com­posers, and all of the men and women of the arts are eager and anx­ious to help, to serve. Our coun­try needs us more today than ever before. We should not be writ­ten off by the vicious slan­ders of lit­tle and pet­ty men.”

Weeks lat­er, her show was can­celed “and con­cert book­ings became few and far between,” writes her biog­ra­ph­er Karen Chilton at Smith­son­ian. “The government’s sus­pi­cions were enough to cause irrepara­ble dam­age to her career,” and damn her to obscu­ri­ty when she deserves a place next to con­tem­po­rary greats like Hol­i­day, Ella Fitzger­ald, Duke Elling­ton, and oth­ers. “After a decade of liv­ing abroad, she would return to an Amer­i­can music scene that no longer val­ued what she had to offer.” Learn much more about Hazel Scott in the short doc­u­men­tary video, “What Ever Hap­pened to Hazel Scott,” at the top, and in Chilton’s book Hazel Scott: The Pio­neer­ing Jour­ney of a Jazz Pianist, from Café Soci­ety to Hol­ly­wood to HUAC.

via Nar­ra­tive­ly

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bertolt Brecht Tes­ti­fies Before the House Un-Amer­i­can Activ­i­ties Com­mit­tee (1947)

Ayn Rand Helped the FBI Iden­ti­fy It’s A Won­der­ful Life as Com­mu­nist Pro­pa­gan­da

Watch a New Nina Simone Ani­ma­tion Based on an Inter­view Nev­er Aired in the U.S. Before

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

An Interactive Social Network of Abstract Artists: Kandinsky, Picasso, Brancusi & Many More

Who’s your favorite abstract artist? Some of us, if we like ear­ly abstrac­tion, might name a painter like Wass­i­ly Kandin­sky, some a com­pos­er like Arnold Schoen­berg, some a poet like Guil­laume Apol­li­naire, and some, even, a pho­tog­ra­ph­er like Alfred Stieglitz. When we answer a ques­tion like this, we tend to con­sid­er each artist, and each artist’s body of work, in iso­la­tion. But when we talk about artis­tic move­ments, espe­cial­ly one over­ar­ch­ing and influ­en­tial as abstrac­tion, all names, all paint­ings, all com­po­si­tions, all poems, all pho­tographs — all works of any kind — are inter­con­nect­ed. Just as abstract artists man­aged to make vis­i­ble, audi­ble, and leg­i­ble con­cepts and feel­ings nev­er before real­ized in art, the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art’s inter­ac­tive social-net­work map of abstract art puts all those con­nec­tions on dis­play for us to see.

“Abstrac­tion may be mod­ernism’s great­est inno­va­tion,” says the web site of Invent­ing Abstrac­tion 1910–1925, the MoMA exhib­it for which the map (down­load­able as a PDF poster here) was orig­i­nal­ly designed. “Today it is so cen­tral to our con­cep­tion of art­mak­ing that the time when an abstract art­work was unimag­in­able has become hard to imag­ine.”

But when abstract art emerged, it seemed to do so quite sud­den­ly: begin­ning in 1911, Kandin­sky and oth­er artists, includ­ing Fer­nand Léger, Robert Delau­nay, Fran­tišek Kup­ka, and Fran­cis Picabia, “exhib­it­ed works that marked the begin­ning of some­thing rad­i­cal­ly new: they dis­pensed with rec­og­niz­able sub­ject mat­ter.” You can view the Invent­ing Abstrac­tion dia­gram with Léger at the cen­ter, which reveals his con­nec­tions to such fig­ures as Man Ray, Mar­cel Duchamp, and Pablo Picas­so. Recon­fig­ured with Delau­nay at the cen­ter, links emerge to the likes of Blaise Cen­drars, Edgard Varèse, and Paul Klee.

But no abstract artist seems to have been as well-con­nect­ed as Kandin­sky, who “became a cen­tral force in the devel­op­ment and pro­mo­tion of abstrac­tion through his intre­pid efforts as a painter, the­o­rist, pub­lish­er, exhi­bi­tion orga­niz­er, teacher, and as a gen­er­ous host to the dozens of artists and writ­ers who trekked, often from great dis­tances, to meet him.” So says the bio along­side Kandin­sky’s page on the dia­gram, which depicts him as the node con­nect­ing fig­ures, influ­en­tial in their own right, like Josef Albers, Lás­zló Moholy-Nagy, and Hans Richter. Kandin­sky’s “mes­sage about abstrac­tion’s poten­tial tran­scend­ed dis­tinc­tions between medi­ums, and his impact was felt from New York to Moscow.” But only a com­mu­ni­ty of artists span­ning at least that range of the globe, each in his or her own way look­ing to cre­ate a new world, could bring abstract art into being. More than a cen­tu­ry lat­er, we can safe­ly call it here to stay.

Enter the social net­work of abstract artists here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Steve Mar­tin on How to Look at Abstract Art

How to Paint Like Kandin­sky, Picas­so, Warhol & More: A Video Series from the Tate

Who Paint­ed the First Abstract Paint­ing?: Wass­i­ly Kandin­sky? Hilma af Klint? Or Anoth­er Con­tender?

The First Mas­ter­pieces of Abstract Film: Hans Richter’s Rhyth­mus 21 (1921) & Viking Eggeling’s Sym­phonie Diag­o­nale (1924)

A Quick Six Minute Jour­ney Through Mod­ern Art: How You Get from Manet’s 1862 Paint­ing, “The Lun­cheon on the Grass,” to Jack­son Pol­lock 1950s Drip Paint­ings

How the CIA Secret­ly Fund­ed Abstract Expres­sion­ism Dur­ing the Cold War

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 or on Face­book.

The Library of Congress Wants You to Help Transcribe Walt Whitman’s Poems & Letters: Almost 4000 Unpublished Documents Are Waiting

Every once in a while, a promi­nent artist will offer the advice that you should quit your day job and nev­er look back. In some fields, this may be pos­si­ble, though it’s becom­ing increas­ing­ly dif­fi­cult these days, which may explain the recep­tion Bri­an Eno gets when he tells art school stu­dents “not to have a job.” Eno admits, “I rarely get asked back.” In a let­ter to his anx­ious moth­er, Gus­tave Flaubert, railed against “those bas­tard exis­tences where you sell suet all day and write poet­ry at night.” Such a life, he wrote, was “made for mediocre minds.”

Sure, if you can swing it, by all means, quit your job. Most poets through­out history—save the few with inde­pen­dent means or wealthy patrons—haven’t had the lux­u­ry. Poet­ry may nev­er pay the bills, but that shouldn’t stop a poet from writ­ing. It didn’t stop T.S. Eliot, who worked as an edi­tor (he reject­ed George Orwell’s Ani­mal Farm) and a bank clerk (he turned down a fel­low­ship from the Blooms­bury group). It did not stop William Car­los Williams, the doc­tor, nor Wal­lace Stevens, who spent his days in the insur­ance game, nor Charles Bukows­ki,  though he’d nev­er rec­om­mend it….

Then there’s ulti­mate jour­ney­man poet Walt Whit­man, who left school at 11 to get a job and var­i­ous­ly through­out his life “worked as a school teacher, print­er, news­pa­per edi­tor, jour­nal­ist, car­pen­ter, free­lance writer, civ­il ser­vant, and Union Army nurse in Wash­ing­ton D.C. dur­ing the Civ­il War,” as the Library of Con­gress (LOC) not­ed for the 200th anniver­sary of the poet’s 1819 birth. The LOC holds “the world’s largest Walt Whit­man man­u­script col­lec­tion” and last year they announced a vol­un­teer cam­paign to tran­scribe thou­sands of unpub­lished doc­u­ments.

Whit­man offered his own pos­si­bly dubi­ous advice to aspir­ing writ­ers—“don’t write poet­ry”—but he him­self nev­er stopped writ­ing, no mat­ter the demands of the day. He also advised, “it is a good plan for every young man or woman hav­ing lit­er­ary aspi­ra­tions to car­ry a pen­cil and a piece of paper and con­stant­ly jot down strik­ing events in dai­ly life. They thus acquire a vast fund of infor­ma­tion.” Whitman’s “jot­tings” include typed and hand­writ­ten let­ters, orig­i­nal copies of poems, drafts of essays and reviews, and more.

His prose is always live­ly and robust, full of exhor­ta­tions, exal­ta­tions, and admix­tures of the high lit­er­ary lan­guage and casu­al talk of city streets that were his hall­mark. Wit­ness the wild swings in tone in his brief let­ter to Abra­ham P. Leech (above) cir­ca 1881:

Friend Leech,

How d’ye do? — I have quite a han­ker­ing to hear from and see Jamaica, and the Jamaicaites. — A pres­sure of busi­ness only, has pre­vent­ed my com­ing out among the “friends of yore” and the famil­iar places which your vil­lage con­tains. –I was an hour in your vil­lage the oth­er day, but did not have time to come up and see you,–I think of com­ing up in the course of the win­ter holidays.–Farewell–and don’t for­get write to me, through the P.O.  May your kind angel hov­er in the invis­i­ble air, and lose sight of your blessed pres­ence nev­er.

                  Whit­man

There are many, many more such doc­u­ments remain­ing to be tran­scribed among the close to 4000 in the LoC’s dig­i­tized Whit­man col­lec­tion. “More than half of those have been com­plet­ed so far,” writes Men­tal Floss, and rough­ly 1860 tran­scrip­tions still need to be reviewed. Any­one can read the doc­u­ments that need approval and offi­cial­ly add them to the Whit­man archive.” This is a very wor­thy project, and it may or may not feel like work to vol­un­teer your time deci­pher­ing, read­ing, and tran­scrib­ing Whitman’s ebul­lient hand.

The ques­tion may still remain: How did Whit­man acquire the phys­i­cal and men­tal sta­mi­na to get so much excel­lent writ­ing done and still hold down steady gigs to make the rent? Per­haps a series of guides called “Man­ly Health and Train­ing” that he wrote between 1858 and 1860 hold a clue. The poet rec­om­mends rou­tine trips to the “gym­na­si­um” and a diet of meat, “to the exclu­sion of all else.” For those “stu­dents, clerks” and oth­ers “in seden­tary and men­tal employments”—including the “lit­er­ary man”—he has one word: “Up!”

As with all such pieces of advice, results may vary. Enter the two huge man­u­script archives—“Miscellaneous” and “Poetry”—at the Library of Con­gress dig­i­tal col­lec­tions and peruse, or tran­scribe, as much of Whit­man’s end­less stream of writ­ing as you like.

via Men­tal Floss

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Walt Whitman’s Unearthed Health Man­u­al, “Man­ly Health & Train­ing,” Urges Read­ers to Stand (Don’t Sit!) and Eat Plen­ty of Meat (1858)

Walt Whit­man Gives Advice to Aspir­ing Young Writ­ers: “Don’t Write Poet­ry” & Oth­er Prac­ti­cal Tips (1888)

Walt Whitman’s Poem “A Noise­less Patient Spi­der” Brought to Life in Three Ani­ma­tions

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

10 Rules of Self Discipline from the 1930 Self Help/Business Guru Napoleon Hill

It seems ridicu­lous to refer to the Gold­en Rule as a “weapon,” but that is just what it is—a weapon that no resis­tance on earth can with­stand! —Napoleon Hill

Napoleon Hillwhose ear­ly books The Law of Suc­cess (1928), The Mag­ic Lad­der To Suc­cess (1930), and Think and Grow Rich (1937) helped estab­lish the self-help genrewould be con­sid­ered a life coach or moti­va­tion­al speak­er in today’s par­lance.

And were he alive today, he’d like­ly he’d be fac­ing charges, or at the very least, can­celled for some of the behav­iors, schemes, and whop­pers Matt Novak details in an exhaus­tive­ly researched essay for Gizmodo’s Pale­o­fu­ture blog.

We think it’s impor­tant to tip you off to that shady side, because Hill’s “10 Rules for Prof­itable Self Dis­ci­pline,” above, are so sun­ny, they could spur you to dis­sem­i­nate them imme­di­ate­ly, leav­ing you vul­ner­a­ble to harsh words from bet­ter informed friends and, more cru­cial­ly, social media fol­low­ers, who are already het up about any num­ber of things in this elec­tion year, and who enjoy the cathar­sis a good call out affords.

Ergo, if you’re inclined to share, inves­ti­gate the well from which they sprung, and then decide whether or not you want to pro­ceed.

Why did we pro­ceed?

Because prac­ticed with the purest of inten­tions, these rules con­sti­tute extreme­ly human­is­tic advice from a man whose out­ward phi­los­o­phy con­tin­ues to be a touch­stone for many in the busi­ness com­mu­ni­ty.

And as evi­denced by the com­ments left by grate­ful YouTube view­ers, many of whom stum­bled across his words by acci­dent, peo­ple are thirsty for such explic­it­ly pos­i­tive guide­posts to inter­per­son­al deal­ings.

(A good num­ber also seem quite tak­en with the Vir­ginia native’s old timey speech pat­terns and vin­tage lin­go.)

If noth­ing else, apply­ing these rules could sweet­en your next argu­ment with some­one you love, or serve as inspi­ra­tion if you’re ever called upon to give a com­mence­ment speech:

Napoleon Hill’s 10 Rules for Prof­itable Self Dis­ci­pline

  1. Keep a cool head around hot heads. Rage doesn’t have to be con­ta­gious,.
  2. Believe that there are three sides to every argu­ment. If you’re in a dust-up, don’t assume that the fault lays with the oth­er per­son, but rather that you both shoul­der a por­tion of the blame. This is a pret­ty com­pas­sion­ate way of ensur­ing that everyone’s ass will be par­tial­ly cov­ered for both bet­ter and worse.
  3. Nev­er give direc­tives to a sub­or­di­nate when you are angry. Giv­en that swift and deci­sive action is often required of those in lead­er­ship posi­tions, you’ll have to learn to ice your own hot head pret­ty quick­ly to put this one into con­sis­tent play.
  4. Treat every­one as if they were a rich rel­a­tive who might leave you a siz­able inher­i­tance. Which is kind of a gross way of putting it, but oth­er­wise, we agree with Napoleon Hill that treat­ing oth­ers with respect and lov­ing atten­tion is a real “hon­ey” of a con­cept, espe­cial­ly if the oth­er per­son can offer lit­tle beyond their friend­ship.
  5. When you find your­self in an unpleas­ant cir­cum­stance, imme­di­ate­ly start search­ing for the seed of an equiv­a­lent ben­e­fit with­in the expe­ri­ence. If Novak’s Giz­mo­do essay is any indi­ca­tion, Hill prob­a­bly had a lot of oppor­tu­ni­ty to put this one into prac­tice, squeez­ing lemon­ade from lemons of his own mak­ing.
  6. Ask ques­tions and lis­ten to the answer. If you find your­self inclined to dis­agree with a state­ment, employ the phrase, “How do you know?” to get the speak­er to do all the heavy lift­ing. For exam­ple, Napoleon Hill might say to Matt Novak, “How do you know?” which would be Matt Novak’s cue to pro­duce a moun­tain of doc­u­men­ta­tion.
  7. Nev­er say or do any­thing before think­ing if it will ben­e­fit some­one or hurt them. The goal is to refrain from hurt­ing oth­ers. Let those of us are with­out sin cast the first stone here. Hill’s karmic spin on this rule is that any injuries you cause that don’t imme­di­ate­ly come around to bite you in the ass, will bite you in the ass much hard­er at some future point, a la com­pound inter­est.
  8. Learn the dif­fer­ence between friend­ly analy­sis and unfriend­ly crit­i­cisms. His not entire­ly fool­proof method for dis­tin­guish­ing intent is to con­sid­er the nature of your rela­tion­ship with the one offer­ing the obser­va­tions, their tone of voice, man­ner of deliv­ery, and some­what quaint­ly, whether or not they throw in any epi­thets. If it’s friend­ly, you can set some store by it. Oth­er­wise, dis­re­gard.
  9. A good leader knows how to take orders cheer­ful­ly. This pairs nice­ly with Rule Num­ber 3, don’t you think?
  10. Be tol­er­ant of your fel­low humans. Always.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

What Are the Keys to Hap­pi­ness?: Take “The Sci­ence of Well-Being,” a Free Online Ver­sion of Yale’s Most Pop­u­lar Course

How Much Mon­ey Do You Need to Be Hap­py? A New Study Gives Us Some Exact Fig­ures

Har­vard Course on Pos­i­tive Psy­chol­o­gy: Watch 30 Lec­tures from the University’s Extreme­ly Pop­u­lar Course

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join Ayun’s com­pa­ny The­ater of the Apes in New York City  for her book-based vari­ety series, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain, and the world pre­miere of Greg Kotis’ new musi­cal, I AM NOBODY (March 5 — 28) Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Chinese Museums, Closed by the Coronavirus, Put Their Exhibitions Online

Pho­to by Tom Winck­els, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

If you hap­pened to have a trip to Chi­na sched­uled for this time of year, chances are you don’t any­more. Trav­el to and from that coun­try has been severe­ly cur­tailed since the Chi­nese city of Wuhan saw a large-scale out­break of the nov­el coro­n­avirus, about which you can get up to speed through the selec­tion of free online cours­es we fea­tured last week. On an inter­ac­tive web site from Johns Hop­kins you can also keep an eye on the virus’ spread, the range and speed of which reminds us of where the expres­sion “going viral” comes from. But a real, bio­log­i­cal virus at least can’t be trans­mit­ted in the dig­i­tal realm, and so into the dig­i­tal realm some of Chi­na’s attrac­tions have begun to migrate.

“Muse­ums around the coun­try have been forced to tem­porar­i­ly close their doors due to the Wuhan coro­n­avirus out­break,” writes CNN.com’s Mag­gie Hiu­fu Wong. “In response, Chi­na’s Nation­al Cul­tur­al Her­itage Admin­is­tra­tion (NCHA) has asked them to stay active on social media and offer their ser­vices dig­i­tal­ly.”

And so “many muse­ums have opened the doors of their gal­leries vir­tu­al­ly, includ­ing Bei­jing’s world-famous Palace Muse­um, which sits inside the For­bid­den City.” Though the devel­op­ing online muse­um por­tal at the Nation­al Cul­tur­al Her­itage Admin­is­tra­tion’s web site isn’t avail­able out­side main­land Chi­na, “100 online exhi­bi­tions and gal­leries are linked to from the NCHA web­site — here and here (both in Chi­nese),” acces­si­ble every­where and some­times includ­ing infor­ma­tion in Eng­lish.

The vari­ety of online exhi­bi­tions high­light­ed by Wong includes one at the Palace Muse­um on “how Spring Fes­ti­val was cel­e­brat­ed in the For­bid­den City in ancient Chi­na”; Bei­jing’s Nation­al Muse­um’s “The Jour­ney Back Home: An Exhi­bi­tion of Chi­nese Arti­facts Repa­tri­at­ed from Italy” (a coun­try with coro­n­avirus chal­lenges of its own); Nan­jing Mas­sacre Memo­r­i­al Hall, which “lets online vis­i­tors access the muse­um from the entrance as if they were real­ly there”; and the ter­ra­cot­ta war­riors at the Mau­soleum of Emper­or Qin­shi­huang’s Mau­soleum, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture. These “new online resources also offer cul­ture seek­ers an oppor­tu­ni­ty to expe­ri­ence muse­ums in less-vis­it­ed cities, includ­ing his­tor­i­cal­ly rich Wuhan”: Wong names the for­mer Site of the Cen­tral Com­mit­tee of the Com­mu­nist Par­ty and the Muse­um of Wuchang Upris­ing of 1911 Rev­o­lu­tion.

The NCHA’s urg­ing of cul­tur­al insti­tu­tions to shore up their pres­ences on the inter­net isn’t the only such mea­sure being tak­en in Chi­na. As the MIT Tech­nol­o­gy Review report­ed last month, “Chi­na has launched a nation­al cloud learn­ing plat­form and start­ed broad­cast­ing pri­ma­ry school class­es to ensure the country’s 180 mil­lion stu­dents can still keep learn­ing even though schools are closed.” The tem­po­rary shut­down of schools, muse­ums, libraries, and oth­er such core facil­i­ties of civ­i­liza­tion in not just Chi­na but an increas­ing num­ber of places around the world offers an occa­sion to reflect on the nature of our world in the 21st cen­tu­ry. Unprece­dent­ed inter­con­nect­ed­ness across the globe has made pos­si­ble unprece­dent­ed cul­tur­al, intel­lec­tu­al, and tech­no­log­i­cal exchange across the globe — but of course, there are always some things we’d rather did­n’t spread world­wide.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Inter­ac­tive Web Site Tracks the Glob­al Spread of the Coro­n­avirus: Cre­at­ed and Sup­port­ed by Johns Hop­kins

Free Cours­es on the Coro­n­avirus: What You Need to Know About the Emerg­ing Pan­dem­ic

China’s 8,000 Ter­ra­cot­ta War­riors: An Ani­mat­ed & Inter­ac­tive Intro­duc­tion to a Great Archae­o­log­i­cal Dis­cov­ery

Free: Down­load 70,000+ High-Res­o­lu­tion Images of Chi­nese Art from Taipei’s Nation­al Palace Muse­um

Take a Vir­tu­al Tour of Brazil’s Nation­al Muse­um & Its Arti­facts: Google Dig­i­tized the Museum’s Col­lec­tion Before the Fate­ful Fire

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 or on Face­book.

The Documentary Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool Is Streaming Free for a Limited Time

PBS’ Amer­i­can Mas­ters series has released the new doc­u­men­tary, Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool, and it’s stream­ing free online for a lim­it­ed time. (Some geo-restric­tions may apply.) With full access to the Miles Davis Estate, “the film fea­tures nev­er-before-seen footage, includ­ing stu­dio out­takes from his record­ing ses­sions, rare pho­tos and new inter­views.” Watch the trail­er above. Stream the full doc­u­men­tary 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.

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More

Miles Davis Icon­ic 1959 Album Kind of Blue Turns 60: Revis­it the Album That Changed Amer­i­can Music

1959: The Year That Changed Jazz

Kind of Blue: How Miles Davis Changed Jazz

Her­bie Han­cock Explains the Big Les­son He Learned From Miles Davis: Every Mis­take in Music, as in Life, Is an Oppor­tu­ni­ty

The Influ­ence of Miles Davis Revealed with Data Visu­al­iza­tion

Free: Read the Original 23,000-Word Essay That Became Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1971)

Because my sto­ry was true. I was cer­tain of that. And it was extreme­ly impor­tant, I felt, for the mean­ing of our jour­ney to be made absolute­ly clear. 

The pub­li­ca­tion his­to­ry of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is the sto­ry of gonzo jour­nal­ism itself, a form depen­dent upon the unre­li­a­bil­i­ty of its nar­ra­tor, who becomes a cen­tral char­ac­ter in the osten­si­bly real-life dra­ma. In Thompson’s hal­lu­cino­genic tales of his trav­els to Las Vegas with attor­ney and Chi­cano activist Oscar Zeta Acos­ta, the reporter went so far as to become a fic­tion­al char­ac­ter.

The jour­ney began with a com­mis­sion from Rolling Stone to report on the death of reporter Ruben Salazar, killed by a Los Ange­les police tear gas grenade at an anti-Viet­nam War protest. This trip divert­ed, how­ev­er, to Las Vegas, where Thomp­son drove to report on the Mint 400 desert race for Sports Illus­trat­ed. Rather than sub­mit­ting the 250-word piece the mag­a­zine request­ed, he gave them a 2,500-word psy­che­del­ic fugue, the very begin­nings of Fear and Loathing. The piece, Thomp­son lat­er wrote, was “aggres­sive­ly reject­ed.”

Instead, Jann Wen­ner liked what he saw enough to even­tu­al­ly pub­lish it in the Novem­ber 1971 issue of Rolling Stone as a 23,000-word essay bear­ing the title of the nov­el it would become, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Sav­age Jour­ney to the Heart of the Amer­i­can Dream.” You can read that by-now famil­iar­ly wild account, here. In it, Thomp­son gave the magazine’s read­ers a suc­cinct def­i­n­i­tion of his report­ing style:

But what was the sto­ry? Nobody had both­ered to say. So we would have to drum it up on our own. Free Enter­prise. The Amer­i­can Dream. Hor­a­tio Alger gone mad on drugs in Las Vegas. Do it now: pure Gonzo jour­nal­ism.

The term defines the form as the mir­ror obverse of the Amer­i­can Dream, Thompson’s excess­es no more than illic­it ver­sions of the cul­ture he picked apart, one that pro­duced an event like the Mint 400, “the rich­est off-the-road race for motor­cy­cles and dune-bug­gies in the his­to­ry of orga­nized sport,” he wrote, and “a fan­tas­tic spec­ta­cle….”

What were Thomp­son and Acos­ta (or Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo) doing if not hold­ing the main event of dis­or­ga­nized sport in their race across the desert against their own para­noid delu­sions? The truths Thomp­son told need nev­er have been factual—they were the out­ra­geous truths we find in any good sto­ry, well told: about the bats—as in the famous Goya etch­ing—swarm­ing around the passed-out head of Rea­son.

Read Thomp­son’s orig­i­nal, now icon­ic essay here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hunter Thomp­son Died 15 Years Ago: Hear Him Remem­bered by Tom Wolfe, John­ny Depp, Ralph Stead­man, and Oth­ers

Read 11 Free Arti­cles by Hunter S. Thomp­son That Span His Gonzo Jour­nal­ist Career (1965–2005)

How Hunter S. Thomp­son Gave Birth to Gonzo Jour­nal­ism: Short Film Revis­its Thompson’s Sem­i­nal 1970 Piece on the Ken­tucky Der­by

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

The Story of Physics Animated in 4 Minutes: From Galileo and Newton, to Einstein

No mat­ter how well you remem­ber your physics class­es, you most like­ly don’t remem­ber learn­ing any sto­ries in them. The­o­ries and equa­tions, yes, but not sto­ries — yet each of those the­o­ries and equa­tions has a sto­ry behind it, as does the entire sci­en­tif­ic enter­prise of physics they con­sti­tute. The video above from the BBC’s Dara Ó Bri­ain’s Sci­ence Club pro­vides an overview of the lat­ter sto­ry in an ani­mat­ed four min­utes, mak­ing it ide­al for young­sters just start­ing to learn about physics. It will also do the job for those of us not-so-young­sters cir­cling back to get a bet­ter grasp of physics, its dis­cov­er­ies and dri­ving ques­tions.

“The sto­ry of physics is, for the most part, a tale of ever-increas­ing con­fi­dence,” says Ó Bri­ain, a come­di­an as well as a tele­vi­sion host and writer on var­i­ous sub­jects. This ver­sion of the sto­ry begins with rolling balls and falling objects, observed with a new rig­or by such 17th-cen­tu­ry Ital­ians as Galileo Galilei. Galileo’s work became “the rock on which mod­ern physics is found­ed,” and those who first built upon that rock includ­ed Isaac New­ton, who start­ed by notic­ing how apples fall and end­ed up with a the­o­ry of grav­i­ty. New­ton’s work would lat­er pre­dict the exis­tence of Nep­tune; James Clerk Maxwell, work­ing in the 19th cen­tu­ry, made dis­cov­er­ies about elec­tro­mag­net­ism that would lat­er give us radio and tele­vi­sion.

For quite a while, physics seemed to go from strength to strength. But as the 20th cen­tu­ry began, “the lat­est dis­cov­er­ies did­n’t build on the old ones. Things like x‑rays and radioac­tiv­i­ty were just plain weird, and in a bad way.” But in 1905, onto the scene came a 26-year-old Albert Ein­stein, who “tore up the script by” claim­ing that “light is a kind of wave but also comes in pack­ets, or par­ti­cles.” That same year he pub­lished an equa­tion you’ll cer­tain­ly remem­ber from your school days: E = mc2, which holds “that mass and ener­gy are equiv­a­lent.” Ein­stein pro­posed that, if “some­one watch­es a space­ship fly­ing very fast, what they would see is the ship’s clocks run­ning slow­er than their own watch — and the ship will actu­al­ly shrink in size. But for the astro­nauts inside, all would be nor­mal.”

In oth­er words, “time and space can change: they are rel­a­tive depend­ing on who’s observ­ing.” Ein­stein called this “spe­cial rel­a­tiv­i­ty,” and he also had a the­o­ry of “gen­er­al rel­a­tiv­i­ty.” That showed “how balls and apples weren’t the only thing sub­ject to grav­i­ty: light, time, and space were also affect­ed. Grav­i­ty slows down time and it warps space.” No mat­ter how dim­ly we under­stand physics itself, we all know the major play­ers in its sto­ry: Galileo and New­ton made impor­tant ear­ly dis­cov­er­ies, but it was Ein­stein who “shat­tered tra­di­tion­al physics” and revealed just how much we still have to learn about phys­i­cal real­i­ty. Still today, physi­cists labor to rec­on­cile Ein­stein’s dis­cov­er­ies with all oth­er known facts of that real­i­ty. As frus­trat­ing as that task often proves, the kids who take an inter­est of their own in physics after watch­ing the video will sure­ly be heart­ened to know that the sto­ry of physics goes on.

via The Kids Should See This

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Physics Cours­es (part of our larg­er col­lec­tion, 1,500 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties)

The Map of Physics: Ani­ma­tion Shows How All the Dif­fer­ent Fields in Physics Fit Togeth­er

The Case for Study­ing Physics in a Charm­ing Ani­mat­ed Video

Physics & Caf­feine: Stop Motion Film Uses a Cup of Cof­fee to Explain Key Con­cepts in Physics

The Feyn­man Lec­tures on Physics, The Most Pop­u­lar Physics Book Ever Writ­ten, Is Now Com­plete­ly Online

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 or on Face­book.

The Photos That Ended Child Labor in the US: See the “Social Photography” of Lewis Hine (1911)

The aver­age per­son believes implic­it­ly that the pho­to­graph can­not fal­si­fy. Of course, you and I know that this unbound­ed faith in the integri­ty of the pho­to­graph is often rude­ly shak­en, for, while pho­tographs may not lie, liars may pho­to­graph.  —Lewis Wick­es Hine, “Social Pho­tog­ra­phy: How the Cam­era May Help in the Social Uplift” (1909)

Long before Bran­don Stanton’s wild­ly pop­u­lar Humans of New York project tapped into the public’s capac­i­ty for com­pas­sion by com­bin­ing pho­tos of his sub­jects with some telling nar­ra­tive about their lives, edu­ca­tor and soci­ol­o­gist Lewis Wick­es Hine was using his cam­era as a tool to pres­sure the pub­lic into demand­ing an end to child labor in the Unit­ed States.

In a time when the US Fed­er­al Cen­sus report­ed that one in five chil­dren under the age of 16over 1.75 mil­lionwas gain­ful­ly employed, Hines tra­versed the coun­try under the aus­pices of the Nation­al Child Labor Com­mit­tee, gath­er­ing infor­ma­tion and mak­ing por­traits of the under­age work­ers.

His images, made between 1911 and 1916, intro­duced view­ers to young boys break­ing up coal in Penn­syl­va­nia mines, tiny Louisiana oys­ter shuck­ers and Maine sar­dine cut­ters, child pick­ers in Ken­tucky tobac­co fields and Mass­a­chu­setts cran­ber­ry bogs, and news­boys in a num­ber of cities.

Their employ­ers active­ly recruit­ed kids from poor fam­i­lies, wager­ing that they would per­form repet­i­tive, often dan­ger­ous tasks for a pit­tance, with lit­tle chance of union­iz­ing.

Hine was a scrupu­lous doc­u­men­tar­i­an, label­ing each pho­to with cru­cial infor­ma­tion gleaned from con­ver­sa­tions with the child pic­tured there­in: name, age, loca­tion, occu­pa­tion, wages, andhor­rif­i­cal­lyany work­place injuries.

In an essay in the anthol­o­gy Major Prob­lems in the Gild­ed Age and the Pro­gres­sive Era, his­to­ri­an Robert West­brook lauds Hines’ way of inter­act­ing with his sub­jects with “deco­rum and tact,” accord­ing them a dig­ni­ty that few of the period’s “con­de­scend­ing” mid­dle-class reform­ers did.

As the Vox Dark­room seg­ment, above, explains, Hine’s for­mal com­po­si­tions lent addi­tion­al pow­er to his images of smudged child work­ers pos­ing in their places of employ­ment. Shal­low depth of field to ensure that the viewer’s eyes would not become absorbed in the back­ground, but rather engage with those of his sub­ject.

But it was the accom­pa­ny­ing nar­ra­tives, which he referred to var­i­ous­ly as “pic­ture sto­ries” or “pho­to-inter­pre­ta­tions,” that he cred­it­ed with real­ly get­ting through to the hearts and minds of an indif­fer­ent pub­lic.

The text pre­vent­ed view­ers from eas­i­ly brush­ing the chil­dren off as anony­mous, scruffy urchins.

Here for instance is “Manuel, the young shrimp-pick­er, five years old, and a moun­tain of child-labor oys­ter shells behind him. He worked last year. Under­stands not a word of Eng­lish. Dun­bar, Lopez, Dukate Com­pa­ny. Loca­tion: Biloxi, Mis­sis­sip­pi.”

“Lau­ra Pet­ty, a 6 year old berry pick­er on Jenk­ins farm, Rock Creek near Bal­ti­more, Md. ‘I’m just begin­nin.’ Picked two box­es yes­ter­day. (2 cents a box).”

“Ange­lo Ross, 142 Pana­ma Street, Hughestown Bor­ough, a young­ster who has been work­ing in Break­er #9 Penn­syl­va­nia Co. for four months, said he was 13 years old, but very doubt­ful. He has a broth­er, Tony, prob­a­bly under 14 work­ing. Loca­tion: Pittston, Penn­syl­va­nia.”

Hine cor­rect­ly fig­ured that the com­bi­na­tion of pho­to and bio­graph­i­cal infor­ma­tion was a “lever for the social uplift.”

Once the pic­tures were pub­lished in Pro­gres­sive mag­a­zines, state leg­is­la­tures came under immense pres­sure to impose min­i­mum age require­ments in the work­place, effec­tive­ly end­ing child labor, and return­ing many for­mer work­ers to school.

View the entire col­lec­tion of Lewis Hine’s Nation­al Child Labor Com­mit­tee pho­tos here.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

How Dorothea Lange Shot, Migrant Moth­er, Per­haps the Most Icon­ic Pho­to in Amer­i­can His­to­ry

Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, Clem Albers & Fran­cis Stewart’s Cen­sored Pho­tographs of a WWII Japan­ese Intern­ment Camp

Meet Ger­da Taro, the First Female Pho­to­jour­nal­ist to Die on the Front Lines

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join her in NYC this March, when her com­pa­ny, The­ater of the Apes, presents the world pre­miere of Tony Award win­ner Greg Kotis’ new low-bud­get, gui­tar-dri­ven musi­cal, I AM NOBODY.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Smithsonian Puts 2.8 Million High-Res Images Online and Into the Public Domain

No mat­ter how many pub­lic insti­tu­tions you vis­it in a day—schools, libraries, muse­ums, or the dread­ed DMV—you may still feel like pri­va­tized ser­vices are clos­ing in. And if you’re a fan of nation­al parks and pub­lic lands, you’re keen­ly aware they’re at risk of being eat­en up by devel­op­ers and ener­gy com­pa­nies. The com­mons are shrink­ing, a trag­ic fact that is hard­ly inevitable but, as Mat­to Milden­berg­er argues at Sci­en­tif­ic Amer­i­can, the result of some very nar­row ideas.

But we can take heart that one store of com­mon wealth has major­ly expand­ed recent­ly, and will con­tin­ue to grow each year since Jan­u­ary 1, 2019—Pub­lic Domain Day—when hun­dreds of thou­sands of works from 1923 became freely avail­able, the first time that hap­pened in 21 years. This year saw the release of thou­sands more works into the pub­lic domain from 1924, and so it will con­tin­ue ad infini­tum.

And now—as if that weren’t enough to keep us busy learn­ing about, shar­ing, adapt­ing, and repur­pos­ing the past into the future—the Smith­son­ian has released 2.8 mil­lion images into the pub­lic domain, mak­ing them search­able, share­able, and down­load­able through the museum’s Open Access plat­form.

This huge release of “high res­o­lu­tion two- and three-dimen­sion­al images from across its col­lec­tions,” notes Smith­son­ian Mag­a­zine, “is just the begin­ning. Through­out the rest of 2020, the Smith­son­ian will be rolling out anoth­er 200,000 or so images, with more to come as the Insti­tu­tion con­tin­ues to dig­i­tize its col­lec­tion of 155 mil­lion items and count­ing.”

There are those who would say that these images always belonged to the pub­lic as the hold­ings of a pub­licly-fund­ed insti­tu­tion some­times called “the nation’s attic.” It’s a fair point, but shouldn’t take away from the excite­ment of the news. “Smith­son­ian” as a con­ve­nient­ly sin­gu­lar moniker actu­al­ly names “19 muse­ums, nine research cen­ters, libraries, archives, and the Nation­al Zoo,” an enor­mous col­lec­tion of art and his­toric arti­facts.

That’s quite a lot to sift through, but if you don’t know what you’re look­ing for, the site’s high­lights will direct you to one fas­ci­nat­ing image after anoth­er, from Moham­mad Ali’s 1973 head­gear to the his­toric Eliz­a­bethan por­trait of Poc­a­hon­tas, to the col­lec­tion box of the Rhode Island Anti-Slav­ery Soci­ety owned by William Lloyd Garrison’s fam­i­ly, to Walt Whit­man in 1891, as pho­tographed by the painter Thomas Eakins, to just about any­thing else you might imag­ine.

Enter the Smithsonian’s Open Access archive here and browse and search its mil­lions of new­ly-pub­lic domain images, a mas­sive col­lec­tion that may help expand the def­i­n­i­tion of com­mon knowl­edge.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Pub­lic Domain Day Is Final­ly Here!: Copy­right­ed Works Have Entered the Pub­lic Domain Today for the First Time in 21 Years

The Library of Con­gress Launch­es the Nation­al Screen­ing Room, Putting Online Hun­dreds of His­toric Films

The Smith­son­ian Design Muse­um Dig­i­tizes 200,000 Objects, Giv­ing You Access to 3,000 Years of Design Inno­va­tion & His­to­ry

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


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