I’ve finally caught my breath after this year’s exhausting yet insightful Society for Cinema & Media Studies conference in New Orleans. This marks my second year presenting at SCMS (my fourth conference overall), and I came away with a vastly different impression than I did at the Los Angeles meeting in 2010. Little had changed in terms of the meeting’s organization other than location, but, unlike the previous year, I entered having fully embraced Twitter. In fact, it was the postmortems that began appearing in my timeline today that spurred me to blog some of my thoughts on the event, as my take on SCMS seems to depart from that of a number of others that I follow.
My experience of SCMS was, indeed, that of being in attendance at two very different conferences: a cinema conference, on the one hand, and a television & new media conference on the other. This isn’t to say that these two fields are in any way opposed to one another or antagonistic; on the contrary, the people I encountered within both realms—and those who float in between them—were all quite collegial and friendly. I detected the split through the confluence of my Twitter feed and my sleeping arrangements. I bunked in New Orleans with my GSU colleague, Noel Kirkpatrick, and our fellow graduate student, Myles McNutt from Madison (their blogs may be found here and here). Noel and Myles are both TV scholars, and the close quarters of a hotel room offered opportunities for me to gain some insight into TV studies, a world that I, as a rather traditional film scholar, knew nothing of.
If one were to glance at the Twitter backchannel (#SCMS11), she might get a rather limited picture of what was in actuality a quite diverse conference. The TV folks, it seems, are far more vested in Twitter than are their counterparts in film. For nearly every television panel, there were multiple people tweeting the proceedings. For the film sessions, little information made it to the Twittersphere, despite my best efforts. Moreoever, this investment in Twitter seems to have fostered a particularly close-knit group of TV folks, as my conversations with Noel and Myles confirmed.
As a first-year PhD student still learning the ropes of academia, I am, quite frankly, jealous of the community my colleagues enjoy. The distance between senior scholars and graduate students appears decidedly less hierarchical as a result of their online interactions. I don’t mean to suggest that film scholars are somehow un-friendly; rather, I think that admiration and nervousness on the part of young scholars can make approaching established academics more than a bit intimidating. How I’d love to see such esteemed cinema faculty giving and taking via Twitter. Who’d have thought there would be such a pronounced divide in terms of social networking?
This divide between the C and the MS of SCMS is coupled by another one relating to presentation format. The 20-minute presentation model of SCMS was called into question numerous times on Twitter and in conversation around the conference, and, by and large, this sentiment seemed to come from the TV and media studies folks. In its stead, most preferred the workshop and shorter presentation format of FLOW. Most seemed to complain of being “read to” and the lack of interaction and collaboration, and I certainly understand where they are coming from—panels can be exhausting, especially when the arguments are tight and the presentation lacking. However, I think there is a place for both models. As I see it, workshops are ideal formats for “state of the field” conversations and for sharing ideas. And yet, I’d hate to have presented my paper—one that I’ve has been gestating in various forms for nearly two years—in any time less than twenty minutes. Hell, I had trouble trimming it to even that point.
I tend to agree with Mabel Rosenheck’s point that many in TV studies are focused upon “contemporary popular media” and, thus, the audience is likely to know quite a bit about the topic and not need a great deal of literature review or setting up of the aesthetic object in order to “get” the argument. However, in my case, I sincerely doubt that every member of the audience at my panel was hip to Deleuze’s notion of free indirect discourse in sound-image realtions. Such an argument is built on a number of steps and doesn’t lend itself to short formats and give-and-take. I don’t mean to suggest that my discipline is more “advanced” or “sophisticated” than another, and nor do I want to paint TV studies as monolithic. Instead, I’d simply say that certain topics and papers are more natural fits for certain formats.
When I suggested as much to a media scholar who questioned the 20-minute talk model on Twitter, I was told that “scholars should have the skill to present a fully-developed argument in a roundtable format.” I don’t think this a matter of the skill of the presenter so much as it is the goal of the session and the aims of the argument. In fact, I think its quite insulting to suggest that one who can’t shoehorn an argument into less than 10 minutes is neccesarily lacking in skill. There are numerous formats out there to dessiminate schoarlship, from blogs to shorter outlets like In Media Res and FLOW to conference presentation to traditional journals. Therefore, I think one should tailor his or her content to the model to which they are submitting, or, alternatively, propose more workshops as opposed to submitting to the open call.
All things considered, though, I saw some terrific presentations at SCMS (and my fair share of duds) and gained some insight into how the “other half” lives. I’m looking forward to next year’s meeting in Boston. Hopefully by then I’ll have roped a few more film people into contributing to the backchannel.
So much of this blog post looks familiar, almost as if we talked about some of this while at the conference!
I certainly think that, as a result of the interactions on Twitter, there’s less of a hard and fast hierarchy, and it does solve some of the problems of meeting senior scholars. As was discussed last night after my post went live, the cold greet of a scholar is hard thing to do, and an even harder thing to do well and in a meaningful way (especially for those of us who are pretty socially awkward (or consider ourselves as such!)), but Twitter (and many of us having met at Flow) made this much easier.
I know one challenge of making Twitter seem useful is modeling that very trait in your use of it. Once you figure that out (and build a community, which takes time), as I think you can attest to, that Twitter’s usefulness becomes a little more apparent.
As for the format question, I know we discussed it at the conference, and I am in agreement with you: Some arguments, regardless of their field of study, require the 20 minute format to make sense, to be a coherent whole. My point, beyond feeling numb after a few papers (esp. if the numbing occurs during a chain of papers on a panel), is that beyond practicing the paper, a degree of engagement is necessary, even if it just be consistent eye contact or a varied tone to drive home ideas is necessary. I hate to use the word ‘performance’, but certainly some folks I observed could benefit from seeming excited to be there, regardless of the time of day it was.
Perhaps, should we both attend next year, we should swap schedules!
I agree with you on both points. I think the issue with the 20-minute presentation isn’t the format itself; as you point out, what one does with the time makes all the difference. Frankly, I saw a number of dull talks: flat, monotone, lacking a compelling argument. But that isn’t an indictment of the format; rather, scholars—junior, senior, grad students, faculty—need to ratchet up their game. And I’m certainly not holding myself up as an exemplar by any means. I see the 20-minute talk as a showcase for the scholar, one that comes with a degree of risk. If one’s argument or delivery are lacking, it quickly becomes apparent. I think shorter presentations lessen that risk by lowering the stakes, which is why it is ideal for conversation and for ideas that are still in the formative stage. It troubles me, though, that some suggest we abandon the standard conference-length presentation altogether in favor of the workshop or position paper model, as if the latter is intrinsically superior to the former.
Your point about engagement is well-taken. I think one solution might be to incorporate respondents more frequently into the proceedings, as, in my mind, that person’s job is to tie together the presentations and tease out connections and points of contention. Another option might be to re-assess the number of papers on each panel. Maybe if SCMS and other conferences were to limit panels to three presenters and allot 20 minutes for conversation, all parties—presenters and audience members—would get more out of the endeavor. Ultimately, I don’t feel that the model employed by SCMS is in any way broken or needs to be done away with. Rather, its incumbent upon us, the members of the organization, to simply be better at presenting.
And as for next’s years schedule, I intend to spend a little more time exploring panels outside my immediate areas of research. With an organization as large as SCMS, I need to do a better job of treating the conference less as a showcase for my work or as an opportunity to bounce among my niches and instead regard it as a learning experience in the broadest sense of the term. I think there is much to be gained in so doing. Thanks for taking the time to reply!
I know you took the idea that pop culture panels are somehow more accessible than film panels from someone else, but this type of thinking immediately sets off a fire alarm in a TV Studies person. The irony of your post is that TV Studies scholars have long fought a sense of inferiority within SCMS. What you saw this year–multiple TV panels appearing during individual slots–is super new. As in, I’m not sure I’ve seen such a strong TV presence in the past two years. The mere fact that TV Studies scholars had choices is remarkable in an organization that took many years to acknowledge media beyond cinema. So hooray–perhaps we have arrived.
That said, the mere notion that a study of pop culture is somehow non-theoretical is a bit troubling. With our roots in cultural studies (and film studies) TV Studies has developed deep theoretical roots. There’s also a tremendous amount of content today, so providing a context for panel attendees is always necessary. When some scholars debate the utility of the 20-minute presentation, I think they are commenting more that the impact of these types of conversations seems less profound than workshops that encourage deeper types of conversation. This year the TV Studies SIG did not meet–a meeting that usually invites the opportunity for these types of conversations. So some of the 20-minute talk reflected, perhaps, a bit of regret that we missed this regular activity.
But all of that aside, perhaps the discussion of the 20-minute format can prompt a different type of conversation–one that provides for a more versatile series of panel options. Yes, some papers require more time to deliver (and I don’t believe this is the purview of film alone–certainly some policy and new media papers require similar room to maneuver), but what would happen if SCMS invited panelists to choose the option that best fit their topic? I know some people choose to present with a more improvisational style, so this isn’t forbidden, but perhaps the conversation engaged in by TV scholars on Twitter serves to encourage those in agreement to experiment rather than to impose a new format on others.
Twitter and its utility is a whole other conversation. As is networking. Both of which I have many thoughts about, but I will leave that for another time.
Like I mentioned to you on Twitter, I think my original post painted with too broad a stroke. I didn’t mean to suggest that suggest that TV studies isn’t theoretically sophisticated; in fact, I tried to stress that point in the post. A more nuanced statement on my part—which, again, is a view from afar—would be that TV studies doesn’t seem to have hit the point of fracture that film studies has. My take, which I’ve come to from reading on occasion the posts on Twitter, Flow, and blogs, is that the relative youth of the field results in a group of scholars that, while pursuing diverse arenas, still have a clear sense of the debates that are happening within it. By this I mean that even someone like yourself who is looking at policy and TV history still is hip to whats going on in the discussions of the contemporary realm. By contrast, when I delve into film panels outside my research interests (realism, experimental cinema, sound studies), I am often lost: I have little grounding as to what the history, stakes, and debates are that are happening in those domains. As you mention, this year’s SCMS was an exception in that it offered multiple panels on TV running simultaneously. I’d imagine a by-product of that is that you, in addition to your area of expertise, are quite well grounded in what’s happening in your field. I think this fact lends itself to a community of scholars who can engage in short-form discussions without having to lay out an extensive lit review as if the audience had never heard it before.
Again, my intent wasn’t to claim that TV studies is un-theoretical. My comments on the need for 20 minutes was in relation to the idea that my audience may have no experience with the theories that I employ. As I wrote: “in my case, I sincerely doubt that every member of the audience at my panel was hip to Deleuze’s notion of free indirect discourse in sound-image relations. Such an argument is built on a number of steps and doesn’t lend itself to short formats and give-and-take. I don’t mean to suggest that my discipline is more “advanced” or “sophisticated” than another, and nor do I want to paint TV studies as monolithic. Instead, I’d simply say that certain topics and papers are more natural fits for certain formats.” Though Deleuze has certainly gained a great deal of traction in my field, I can’t assume that my audience knows his work—I’ve found that they often do not. My point was that I don’t know if I could have set up my paper in a 10-minute format. At that point, I was addressing specifically the suggestion by one person on Twitter that *any* argument should be able to be conveyed in a short-format presentation, had the scholar ample “skill.” (To be honest, it was this comment that most inspired this post to begin with, so maybe I’m a tad thin-skinned or territorial.)
I certainly think that workshops are beneficial—I attended two of them at SCMS, in fact. What troubles me most is this either/or attitude that I frankly found to be pervasive at the conference. As I mentioned in a reply here to Noel, I don’t think one has more intrinsic value than the other. I know that SCMS allows members to propose panels or workshops, and, given the conversation we are having, they might want to consider adding poster presentations as well. But if people find the presentations at SCMS (or any other conference, for that matter) less than compelling or dull even, then we need to better jobs as scholars, be that in developing arguments, channeling those arguments into appropriate conferences or formats, or screening proposals more thoroughly to ensure that there is enough “meat on the bones.” And some of those, obviously, can’t be accomplished by grad students alone.
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Just wanted to say that I’m a TV scholar and I prefer panels with actual research papers. I find that certain voices tend to take precedence in workshops and other kinds of “open” fora and I am more interested in spending my valuable conference time learning about new research, even if sometimes panels get boring or research is sub-par. Also, I’m on Twitter but don’t like to tweet during panels very much. Lesson: don’t take the tweets you do see to be definitive of the conference experience of anyone, even a group as (admittedly) small as TV scholars. Also, I found many panels to cross media in their subject matter, some papers drawing examples from film, some from TV, some from new media. I think it’s problematic to see the conference as divided by medium in our convergent age. That said, there are certainly MANY panels in which I had no interest and I surely had little to no encounter with a great many people in attendance as a result. Thanks for sharing your response.
Thanks for replying! Great point about assuming the vocal (prolific?) tweeters are necessarily representative of the whole. The question of convergence is an interesting one, for it applies both to media and to SCMS in general. Given that the “M” was added 9 years ago, I still think the two sides have yet to converge. Granted, I don’t think the two a warring factions so much as camps, adjacent and friendly. Perhaps this is something that needs to be addressed at next year’s conference in a—wait for it—workshop!
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I’m most interested in your thoughts on the 20-minute format. My experience at SCMS this year was pretty frustrating. The panels I attended were long, long, long and the papers not usually delivered in a way that was engaging (or clear) enough to warrant 20 minutes. However, I also went to two workshops during which the speakers nearly all went over their promised eight minute talk-time, greatly diminishing the time allotted for discussion. Neither format felt particularly productive, though I personally see more potential in the workshop format, if it were better planned.
Guess I needed to get that rant out. My point or question to you is this: should SCMS have more clearly defined expectations in order to then create a presentation format that best accommodates those?
One of my advisors always tells me to think of conferences as a chance to pitch new, wild ideas that interest you to then see how the feedback goes. Go in with an open, flexible mind and allow a collaborative development of your thoughts to happen while seeing what wild stuff you think “sticks” and what doesn’t. This same advisor also says, “At conferences, if you don’t take a risk with your ideas in a room full of intelligent people, then what’s the point?” If you have a fully grown and developed argument to present, then why not write an article or a chapter? I think that his understanding of conferences is likely very different from that of most SCMS attendees (based on what I saw this year and in L.A.), but I wonder if it would be more productive…and more conducive to constructive conversations. Not sure though–I’m keeping a flexible mind, ha. Thoughts?
Hi Chelsea:
I think there is a great deal of merit in using conferences to “test the waters” on ideas that are still in the process of being formed. As you suggest, hearing feedback from a potentially diverse group of people can only strengthen your work in the long run. Some of the faculty that I most trust would consider that one option, with the other being taking some of one’s best work from his or her seminar work and treating the conference presentation as an opportunity to tighten up the argument. Facing the tight deadlines of the academic term while writing 3-4 papers simultaneously rarely results in a fully-developed argument, in my limited experience. I generally take the constructive feedback from my professors, tweak the argument, and then distill it down until I think its ready for “primetime.” Then, with the feedback from the conference, one can continue to refine the idea in an effort to get it ready for submission to a journal. (Full disclosure: I’m a first-year PhD student who has yet to be published, though I have manuscript out to a journal at the moment, a manuscript that was developed after presenting it at SCMS last year.) That being said, there are times when certain panel calls match your research interests but you might not have anything currently in the works. Under those circumstances, I think you’re approach is spot on: be bold, swing for the fences, and see if it withstands the scrutiny of others.
Thanks for contributing your two cents!