Pearl Jam and the many cell phones taking their picture
Through a series of odd links, my sister managed to get free tickets to Pearl Jam’s concert at the Verizon Center. Even though I’m not a huge fan of concerts in large stadiums, all in all it was an excellent show: a tight, well-practiced band that was mostly just having fun playing, coupled with good acoustics and work on the soundboard. I had a ball.
One thing stood out to me, however, as rather odd. All throughout the show, hundreds of digital cameras or mobile phones were taking pictures of the stage. At one point I counted, and in our section about 1 in 20 folks at any time were taking a picture. A few folks seemed to be consistently taking photos the entire time.
This is extraordinarily odd if you think about it. Given the distance between most fans and the stage, and the dim lighting, most of these pictures will be a blurry mess. Moreover, one could easily find a better picture of Eddie Vedder on the web. This conundrum really goes back to the famous debate in art history about the meaning of art in an age of replication: why wait in line to see the Mona Lisa for ten seconds through some thick bullet-proof glass, when you can see a detailed reproduction online instantly?
The answer, of course, is that seeing the original is a thrill for at least two reasons, one profound and one shallow. Seeing a famous painting in person necessarily gives you a different perspective on the work, and you realize in an emotional sense that this thing is the product of a human hand, has a certain texture of the paint. This is particularly true for large paintings or sculptures, which are simply never the same in a 2D reproduction. Seeing Pearl Jam in concert was a much more magical experience than hearing their CD: good concerts have a certain animal intensity, as people move in rhythm to the music.
That’s the profound reason, but that’s not what is driving all this cell phone taking. The shallow reason that people like proving they were at the concert, just as there is a certain joy in seeing the Mona Lisa, not because of what it looks like but because it is the Mona Lisa. I totally understand this impulse, and we took a few pictures to commemorate the concert too. Buy why 50 pictures, rather than a couple? I worry sometimes that for some of the folks at the concert it was less about experiencing the concert than it was about documenting themselves watching the concert. Which seems to me rather small.
One thing stood out to me, however, as rather odd. All throughout the show, hundreds of digital cameras or mobile phones were taking pictures of the stage. At one point I counted, and in our section about 1 in 20 folks at any time were taking a picture. A few folks seemed to be consistently taking photos the entire time.
This is extraordinarily odd if you think about it. Given the distance between most fans and the stage, and the dim lighting, most of these pictures will be a blurry mess. Moreover, one could easily find a better picture of Eddie Vedder on the web. This conundrum really goes back to the famous debate in art history about the meaning of art in an age of replication: why wait in line to see the Mona Lisa for ten seconds through some thick bullet-proof glass, when you can see a detailed reproduction online instantly?
The answer, of course, is that seeing the original is a thrill for at least two reasons, one profound and one shallow. Seeing a famous painting in person necessarily gives you a different perspective on the work, and you realize in an emotional sense that this thing is the product of a human hand, has a certain texture of the paint. This is particularly true for large paintings or sculptures, which are simply never the same in a 2D reproduction. Seeing Pearl Jam in concert was a much more magical experience than hearing their CD: good concerts have a certain animal intensity, as people move in rhythm to the music.
That’s the profound reason, but that’s not what is driving all this cell phone taking. The shallow reason that people like proving they were at the concert, just as there is a certain joy in seeing the Mona Lisa, not because of what it looks like but because it is the Mona Lisa. I totally understand this impulse, and we took a few pictures to commemorate the concert too. Buy why 50 pictures, rather than a couple? I worry sometimes that for some of the folks at the concert it was less about experiencing the concert than it was about documenting themselves watching the concert. Which seems to me rather small.
