The first omen was the crow on the window ledge peering in at me two weeks ago, its beady eye an inky portent of the piercing pain I would feel when some woman somehow managed to stomp her clodhopper right on my Vibrammed foot at mile 21. And if that physical pain – which resulted in me retiring from the Virgin London Marathon at 35.5 kms – yes just under 7kms left – having smashed that distance in just 3 hrs 20 on nothing but a millimetre of rubber, ground up chia seeds and sea salted water – the mental poke in the craw was to follow at Covent Garden.
You remember the feeling you had on Jubilee Day or Kate and Wills’ wedding when you thought just you and Morrissey were the only republicans left? Well I felt it again when I saw reality star Amy Childs, caked in make-up, strolling through with her posse, not a hair out of place or an eyelash extension uncaked. She’d made it to the end whereas I had ‘retired’.
I am not marathon noob. My first was Paris two years ago, which was a cinch. The route takes you through the most beautiful parts of the city lined with passionate supporters but with woods at either end to provide calm and quiet from the fray. I still reminisce fondly about all the runners stepping backwards off Eurostar the next day, their thighs pulped from their battering along cobbled boulevards.
I am especially proud of my performance at Brighton last year. It entails running to Shoreham power station, around it then back to a pier that seems to move further and further away the closer you get to it. People who run that race are never the same again. That’s why I call it Shore’Nam.
So with marathons aplenty across the UK and Europe almost every weekend, I’d always been a bit dismissive of the clamour to run London. It’s very hard to get in for a start. And a Channel 4 Dispatches investigation in 2010 http://www.channel4.com/programmes/dispatches/articles/tracing-the-marathons-millions-producer-feature questioned whether charities benefit as much as thought by the runners, many first timers dealing with personal tragedies. On the other hand, fellow running club members told me it was the ‘best, magical, special’ so I duly entered the ballot expecting to get a rejection just so I could lay that one to rest. But by sheer fluke I got a place. That was weird. I am never that lucky. That was the second omen, or should have been if I hadn’t been swept along by the glee, which escalated to a sense of duty after the horrible loss of life and injury in Boston.
I saw it as such a once in a lifetime opportunity that I felt compelled to make it as memorable as possible. So I trained hard in my barefoot shoes which I’d spent the best part of the previous year transitioning into. I researched and refined my marathon nutrition. I obliterated stomach problems and improved my endurance with a home-made concoction road tested many times over. I lifted heavy weights to increase muscle mass and speed trained like a demon. My final long run was three weeks before – a comfortable 37kms to wrap up a 60-70km barefoot running week with no aches and pains the next day. So I convinced myself that powering through London was a formality, just ‘doing the admin’.
But there is a world of difference between London and most other marathons and that was something I hadn’t researched or prepared for. Firstly, although it’s in the city I live, getting to the start takes ages and you are crammed into buses and trains with other runner and supporters from 6.30am. I was caged next to an especially dreary club runner who bored the carriage senseless with his monotonous ‘advice’ to all in earshot. So much so I stuck a finger in my ear. In Paris I just walked up the road to the Arc de Triomphe arriving a nice 15 mins before it kicked off. Brighton was also easy – despite the early start you can nap on the train and eat your breakfast. Today, I ate my porridge on a packed Victoria Line train to Green Park to stick to my usual timing.
The other thing I wasn’t prepared for was how crowded the route is with slowish, inexperienced runners; the weaving, the emergency stops for exhausted walkers, it all takes it out of you mentally. I ran the first half as a series of intervals rather than at a constant pace, grabbing bare bits of grass verge or pavement to overtake. I was foolish aiming for a PB – it’s great for one-off charity experiences but I didn’t find it a satisfying running race as it was so much hard work politely creating spaces to overtake. All this drains your mental energy and makes you more prone to ‘the wall’ if you aren’t robust.
People had told me that the support is incredible and there’s no doubting it is. Barely a foot of that route isn’t lined three deep with families, colleagues, running comrades and tourists proffering encouragement, jelly sweets and even the odd slurp of cider. But it is unrelentingly noisy which is hard to prep for and there’s no respite from it like there was in Paris, a space to collect your thoughts, exorcise any niggling doubts and blast to the end with renewed vigour. Hell, even Shore’Nam’s a bit meditative. Vibram running is a bit hippy – you connect with the ground and your surroundings which sensually drive you forward. I go into a trancelike state. The London route snakes back and forth round the Isle of Dogs which isn’t as evocative or as visual as a London circuit might be. But I can’t fault the organisation and I am sure the planners have good reason for all this.
So all the more frustrating that I fell not far from the more visceral finale stretch from Tower Hill to the Embankment then Westminster and the Mall. I was looking forward to upping my pace and powering the final 6.7kms, the glorious riverside vista just reward after the miles trudged round corporate London. I was about to enact the grand finale I have rehearsed on many a chilly Sunday mornings. I turned a slight bend and felt another’s foot bear down on mine, which had little more than thin fabric on top. As I fell I twisted to my left to see a slightly older pink clad, fair haired female runner, sporting sunglasses Deidre Barlow would wear to soften a hangover on a sunny day in Weatherfield. “Sorry” she muttered without emotion, probably in pain herself, and plodded on seemingly nonchalantly. I think she’d spotted the water station ahead and made a pre-emptive move. By that stage your legs are less deft and can pull you hither and thither. I got up sharpish so as not to trip anyone else and managed to plod on adrenalin for 500 meters but the pain grew.
I glanced down at my foot which was a bad move, and you should avoid the next couple of lines if you are eating…. my first reaction was that I must have stepped on a watermelon. But that was my actual flesh, not just blood, oozing out of the mesh of my left Vibram.
St John Ambulance at 22 miles isn’t a happy place despite the cheerfulness of the skilled volunteers. I felt very guilty asking for their help when they were stabilising a chap who was unconscious. I cleaned my shoe with a babywipe and thought through the options, watched over by a small crowd (maybe Holby City fans?) who seemed bizarrely to have assembled simply to watch the first aiders, not the race. I realised that if I took off my Vibram I would never get it back on again, and certainly could not fit a dressing inside. I thought about going completely barefoot for the last few miles but why injure myself further now there were bottle caps and other detritus to manoeuvre? So I made the tough decision to retire, and literally hopped back to Shadwell, not daring to see the full damage till I had collected my bag from The Mall.
There I was ushered firmly with a hand on my shoulder to the Desk of Shame. ‘This lady chose to retire’ announced the man as they took my timing chip and number. And that was it. No check I was OK, just silence. I didn’t take a medal but I sure as hell nabbed a Finisher’s T shirt – as a daily reminder that I am NOT a finisher.
Quite the opposite. Reviewing my timings on my pedometer I could see that with a brisk nan jog (as I like to call my 6mins per km auto- trot) I’d have easily achieved a sub-4 hr. But at the pace I was doing, I’d probably have snooked in a good-for-age 3.50 or close to. Embankment’s downhill, scenic and atmospheric and I can usually muster a sprint at the end. So I did a killer time over the miles I ran, and I will complete the job with another 26.2 miles ASAP as soon as my wound heals. I am not sure whether it will be an organised marathon somewhere or a re-run taking in as much of the London route as I can with cars streaming past. Or I might just do the 50k ultra I have been hankering after. Apart from the gashed toe joint and a sore hip where I landed, my body feels totally unscathed by the distance and I have much to be grateful for, not least the holistic expertise of my Synergy running trainer Sarra Dally who got me into minimalist running in the first place, and CrossFit North London coach Ged Andrews whose gruelling weightlifting sessions have built strong muscles and mental endurance. I have improved so much in the past year that I was about to shave nearly 40 mins off my personal best.
Either way, the London Marathon, despite the challenges and the abrupt ending, was a success. It has confirmed for me that I love distance running in Vibrams (though admittedly wearing them in a race as packed as London is risky). My lack of concern at bailing out has taught me how resilient I am. Many would have been in emotional shreds whereas I can only see the positives. Next weekend, I begin my first round of training towards becoming an accredited psychotherapist and I am aiming to specialise in sports motivational coaching. I firmly believe, through first hand experience as well as talking with others, that distance running is a powerful form of emotional healing. But to realise the full benefits you have to be willing to go though the highs and lows to build resilience and self-confidence. It is hard self-work but healthily addictive because it is so transformative, and the results are almost immediate. Whatever fears my future clients present, I’ll have been there and come back fitter and stronger both physically and mentally.
He makes regency ruffles rock and gets down-and-dirty in diamante, but there’s a whole lot more to Prince’s style than glitz and glamour.
Since he strutted on stage more than 30 years ago in his G-string and flasher mac, Prince has made his mark as master of his visual appeal as much as his incredible sound. While there have been acres of newsprint devoted to Madonna’s conical bras and gender-play, very little attention has ever been paid to Prince’s unforgettable and enduring image.
But all that is set to change this weekend (Dec 14/15) when London’s Institute of the Contemporary Arts pays homage to the icon by tagging PrinceFest. I will be taking to the stage on the Saturday afternoon to analyse some of Prince’s most powerful fashion and style statements, showing how subversive as well as seductive he can be.
Right from the outset in the late 1970s, Prince sought to defy the generic pigeonholing of other Black musical artists – and he did it through style.
Rather than follow in the visual trajectory of successful Black male soul stars such as Teddy Pendergrass, Prince’s early album covers were closer to those of Gloria Gaynor. In fact his cover shot for the 1979 studio Prince looks uncannily like that on an earlier Donna Summer release. Prince once explained that while he loved the look of the Jackson 5, “they all wore flat shoes and it didn’t work”.
So from the early 80s onwards, Prince fashioned himself as a baroque dandy, resplendent in those aforementioned ruffles, thighs festooned in lace, powdered and mascara’d. The tabloid press recoiled at the idea of a diminutive, Black hyper-feminised young male attracting the attentions of thousands of white women and created a mythology of Prince as a rather animalistic, lascivious creature. As with so many Black artists, the media focused on his physicality and sexuality and comparisons with Michael Jackson
What they didn’t grasp was how Prince was using style as a political statement at the height of the Thatcher/Reagan period. Not only was he commenting on the banality of white, heterosexual western masculinity, but also drawing on a rich heritage of earlier style-as-protest movements.
He emulated the dandies and their class-based assault on the privilege of aristocracy. He channeled the zoot suiters, young Mexican and African American men from the 1940s whose giant jackets and voluminous trousers symbolized freedom and self-determination to them but rebelliousness to their white counterparts.
Prince’s aligned himself with femininity to the extent of creating himself as the ultimate diva in his motion picture Under The Cherry Moon. Draped in ornate brocades, hair sculpted into a vertiginous, curled bouffant, Prince’s to-be-looked-at-ness totally upstages the decorous presence of Kristin Scott-Thomas and Francesca Annis.
While today, the avowedly spiritual icon has abandoned his midriff- or even backside-baring outfits to the back of the wardrobe, his penchant for sumptuous fabrics, colours and textures is very much in evidence. He was a muse for the late Gianni Versace and is as regular and conspicuous a presence next to the Fashion Week runways as Anna Wintour.
To book a ticket: https://uk.patronbase.com/_ICA/Seats/NumSeats?prod_id=PF4&perf_id=1§ion_id=M&seat_type_id=S
Prince: Style and Subversion
£8 / £6 concessions / £5 ICA members
Weird, repulsive, sexy or glamorous, the image of Prince is as sensual and unforgettable as his sound. Author, journalist and academic Sarah Niblock examines how Prince is a master of the power of imagery in marketing, self-styling himself as someone ethically ambiguous, androgynous and aspirational.
Whether he is stealing the limelight from the models in tomato satin and sunglasses at Paris Fashion Week or reclining seductively in brocade and doe-eyed mascara in one of his films, Prince commands our attention. How could this 5ft 2ins multi-ethnic feminised male make such a profound and memorable visual impact? A visual journey through some of his most iconic fashion moments shows how Prince utilises a dazzling array of visual signifiers from head to toe. Whether he’s sporting that iconic lavender raincoat in Purple Rain to adjusting the cufflinks of his immaculate jazz suits, Prince’s exuberant campness, full of visual puns, comments on the banality of white, mainstream, Western masculinity.
His theatrical ethnic masculinity offers a powerful visual and symbolic assault on the mainstream. His dandified zoot suits harness the raw energy and anger of hard-time street fashion coupled with decadence and indifference to aristocratic mores. Mapped against the vigorous representations of white American rock, Prince’s preoccupation with gender bending, the feminine and the effete is startling. Over three decades his look, with all the indisputable signifiers of femininity, class and ethnicity, has helped reconfigure our views around sexuality, race, gender and normalized behaviour.
Sarah Niblock is Professor of Journalism at Brunel University, London. She is the author ofPrince: The Making of a Pop Music Phenomenon (Ashgate 2012, co-written with Stan Hawkins) and several other books, chapters and journal articles on journalism and visual culture. She has been a journalist for more than 20 years, writing news and features for the national and regional print media including Company and Cosmopolitan magazines. Her latest book, Media Professionalism and Training, is due to be published by Palgrave Macmillan shortly.
I had the honour of being invited by Marc Wadsworth to speak at the Media and the Riots Conference held by the Citizen Journalism Educational Trust and The-Latest.com in November.
Media and the Riots: A Call for Action, published on the first anniversary of the Tottenham, north London, riot is the first report to examine the impact of the mainstream print and broadcast media’s reporting on the communities most affected.
The report, written by University of Leicester sociologist Dr Leah Bassel, reflects the views of those people who attended the conference – I was there as a former local journalist and as staunch defender of local journalism while at the same time being an academic and educator.
You can get the report here http://www.the-latest.com/riots-and-media-report
Along with Roy Greenslade (who wrote the foreword) and Marc Wadsworth, (the organiser) I have been singled out for particular criticism on the website Holdthefrontpage.co.uk, and have been on the receiving end of pretty personal attacks from journalists who for the most part conceal their identity. Their main ‘beef’ is with me being a professor, but what I am most concerned about is how some have responded with anger at the very suggestion that there should be more black and other minority ethnic journalists employed in the media. Holdthefrontpage.co.uk closed the comments section before I had the opportunity to respond, and has breached its own house rules by failing to moderate or remove certain personal remarks. I have asked them for my right-to-reply, and we’ll see if I get it.
I can see why some correspondents are feeling so defensive – I’ve been pitched as the typical ‘lofty white middle class professor’ who hasn’t got a clue about real-world journalism having a bit of an ill-informed pop. Indeed one commentator – Steve Dyson – takes the rip out of my name. Well if they read this positive report (in which I actually play a minor role) and heard what I had to say on the day, they’d know I speak as former local, regional and national journalist and as an NCTJ trainer who actively defends and promotes local journalism, not least against the cutbacks wrought by the companies that own their last-remaining titles. My origins were far from middle-class too.
While my family slept, I went out into Wood Green all night on the first night of the riots, and saw the rioting and looting with my own eyes. I spoke to loads of people in Tottenham over the next few days and I heard amazing stories from people keen to tell their tale but with no outlet and a sense that the local media had no part to play in their lives. I monitored what colleagues, friends and former students were doing up and down the country with awe and respect. No-one’s denying the widespread criminality. Nor was anyone in that conference knocking the professionalism of the individual journalists. Quite the opposite in fact. They took massive risks. What is at the heart of the issue is the lack of time and resources local journalists have at their disposal to do their best for their communities 365 days a year, not only when big stories break.
Surely it’s good to reflect on these things and debate them at a time when readership figures and trust in journalists are at a low point, It was great that the conference brought together readers, journalists and people from the communities worst-affected. All agreed the local media have a powerful and positive role to play in their areas and should be supported in doing so.
Satirical magazine Private Eye has depicted the former News International chief executive as a Salem Witch on the cover of its current issue (May 31, 2012) following charges made against her of perverting the course of justice during investigations into phone hacking.
Whatever Private Eye’s intentions, Rebekah’s Brooks’ representation as a female folk devil is vehemently justified by some journalists and academics on the grounds that her papers have doled out full-scale vilification to individuals without proof.
The Daily Mail has been particularly keen to wheel out the type of ‘career girl’ cliches than went out of fashion in the 1980s (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2142997/Leveson-Inquiry-Rebekah-Brooks-complains-sexist-questioning.html). BBC media correspondent Torin Douglas provides a round-up here http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-18043885
As a teacher of ethics, I share the concerns of many that some national news brands have cumulatively created a climate of prejudice and misapprehension towards certain groups and figures. And few could be averse to be jumping on any signs of double standards. But the disparaging of Brooks by virtue of her gender is a direct attack on her as a powerful female figure.
Compare her treatment to that of the other goliaths in the hacking story and you get the distinction. Rupert Murdoch is characterised as a ageing, table-thumping incompetent, while his son James is someone who only got his job through nepotism. They, Hunt and Coulson – I’ve never read an intricate description of their clothing, hairstyle not seen a metaphor or adjective alluding to their masculinity.
Whatever Brooks is alleged to have done as a newspaper executive, her alleged misdeeds have been compounded by the combination of her gender and ambition. Media coverage has devoted far more attention to painting Brooks as a folk devil than it has to the male players. While the somberly be-suited men accord with society’s expectations, a female leader can expect to be castigated for the sins of not conforming to her allotted role.
Brooks’ symbolic annihilation came in the wake of another media moral panic about crimes against femininity. ‘Britain’s worst mother” Karen Matthews was photographed and her new appearance scrutinised following her release from prison for staging the kidnap of her daughter.
The ‘phone hacking scandal is only a part of the motivation for presenting Brooks this way. Men have failed all along the way. But woman are expected to behave perfectly at all times. So whether you are 50-something, weight-lifting pop star, a bad mother (note mother not parent) or a powerful industry figure, you can expect far tougher media treatment than your male counterparts.
This is the rough text of my public lecture at Brunel University, Monday March 12, 2012
Citizen journalists, content providers, bloggers: technology is transforming how we receive news, by whom it is produced and how it is gathered. The 18- to 35-year-old generation, who’ve grown up with the World Wide Web, expect to get their news for free these days. They get it from television, in their e-mail inboxes, on their phones – all at the click of a button. Many believe these changes have huge implications for the future of journalism, especially in terms of public trust and the standards of practice within the trade. As the craft is swept along at high speed on a journey for which it is not fully prepared, the future of journalism is in the here-and-now – multi-platform, multi-skilled and mired in doubt and controversy. But I think it is wrong to believe that the brave new e-world is bringing down journalism, as many within the industry have argued. Technology can all too easily be made the scapegoat for something more insidious and damaging lying at the real heart of doubts about the future of journalism in the digital age. Let’s start by looking at the fears. One school of thought believes the significant decline in newspaper sales since the 1970s means newspapers will soon go out of business; one commentator Philip Meyer predicts ominously that 2043 will be the year when newsprint dies , ‘as the last exhausted reader tosses aside the final crumpled edition’. The phonehacking scandal and the ensuing Leveson inquiry certainly make many of us fear journalism’s standards of accuracy and rigour are also suffering from a terminal illness. The emerging use of ‘content’ instead of ‘news’ or ‘journalism’ to describe material published, posted or broadcast suggests that journalists’ work is little more than ‘stuff’, filling a designated space, rather than the carefully-crafted result of quality reporting. Intrusion, dumbing down and ‘infotainment’ are but a few of the factors that have led to calls for the industry to be more open. One result has been a widening disconnection between the public and journalism, evident in the declining reputation of the journalist in opinion polls and in popular culture. Think how journalists were once portrayed in the cinema. From the wise-cracking Hildy in His Girl Friday to Clark Kent and Lois Lane in Superman. Celluloid journalists were crusading public servants, working for the good of society. Today, the public has withdrawn its affection, lampooning the seemingly vacuous, image-obsessed nature of the corporate, professional self-seeking journalist, epitomised by Courtney Cox’s Gale Weathers in the Scream trilogy. Maintaining the public’s faith in journalism as a watchdog for democracy, rather than as entertainment, is vital. A university study last year after the phonehacking came to light ranked journalists only just above estate agents in the public trust – and below politicians despite newspapers exposing the MPs expenses scandal The dip in trust in journalism has been accompanied by the breakdown of another important relationship; one far more threatening to journalistic standards than technology. Media owners and journalists once worked in close union, with a common purpose of producing news that would attract as many readers, listeners and viewers as possible. Journalism, it was felt by both, was the lifeblood of the industry and to dilute the content would not only lose audiences but also the reputation of the industry as a whole. But, a noticeable distance has developed between media proprietors, journalists and audiences, coinciding with the shift from strong publishers and campaigning moguls to executive boards and shareholders. This breakdown of relationships seems to have occurred when small outlets, run by local owners, were sold to corporations. This brought newsrooms better facilities and slick offices and streamlined efficiency. But as years went by, Power once vested in editors and indeed readers became a need to maximise investors’ returns. Owners, even when they were chairing a board, were identifiable and personified the ideology of the operation. Today, with one or two notorious exceptions, the ownership of a corporation is anonymous and de-personified. Cost-cutting has reduced the number of correspondents stationed abroad, shrivelled or closed news bureaux and crippled local reporting staff who once kept an eye on governors, mayors, councillors, criminals and the justice system. It has shrunk the size of the typical newspaper page, cutting the cost of newsprint but reducing news content. That so many outlets are fighting for their survival suggests that free-market capitalism is not the ideal platform on which to base the journalism industry.Considering that the sales of the popular press are in greatest decline, despite the slight peak of interest in the Sun on Sunday, the message seems to be that news consumers are looking for a brand they can trust. More investment in innovation, quality and rigorous reporting might lure audiences back to journalism, which in turn may bring back the advertisers who are currently promoting themselves in non-journalistic outlets.
So Journalism faces many challenges – but I see the hidden truth is that these challenges have less to do with journalism, or even technology, than with the context within which journalism is produced. The economic basis of production has transformed both journalisms’ processes and its perception by the public and institutions. This, more than anything, needs to be tackled if journalism is to survive and revive.
Interactive media technologies actually present a golden opportunity for news-makers and news audiences to reflect on the present state of journalism. In the mid-1980s, when computers revolutionised journalistic practices and transformed the economics of production and distribution, technology posed no threat to news itself. Newspaper circulations had been in decline for the previous 30 years, ever since television had started to play a central role in daily life. But television did not dent the appeal of journalism itself.. If anything, it raised the media’s global profile. While television supplied visually-impressive footage, certain newspapers understood their role within the burgeoning journalism marketplace: the delivery of broad coverage, deep analysis and opinion. The digital revolution, offers a limitless increase in the amount of information. This is not such much a threat to journalism as a challenge.
So let us look at the Implications….The future’s ‘glocal’ – global and local. The Internet gives us access to content from newspapers, television channels, blogs and podcasts from around the world. We are no longer limited to our own national media to frame the news of the world; at the push of a button we can go directly to any corner of the globe and get their local perspective. in a war or uprising we are starting to see something interesting happening. Instead of there being two sides to a story, myriad accounts emerge and the challenge to a media used to binaries of good versus bad is how to adequately present that diversity. And as well as its global ramifications, the internet enables a return to the hyper local. It’s nothing new but was abandoned in the 80s in favour of cutting newsroom budgets to boost profits.When I trained on a locally owned newspaper my editor didn’t like to see me in the office – I was out and about knocking on doors, looking for the extraordinary in the ordinary and reflecting a community through pages and pages of stories. Then I and my fellow reporters arrived at work one morning to find ourselves in a swish new carpeted office over the road, but with fewer staff and even fewer pages to fill. We were now owned by a leading conglomerate who despite cheaper production costs heralded by on-screen page make-up, decided to simultaneously reduce the number of local district pages and swell up the advertising. After that I barely left the office, spoke mainly to press officers and the tip offs from our readers dwindled. There we had the tools to make our job quicker and easier – the technology wasn’t at fault it was the profiteering of our owners that was wholly out of step with the communities they were meant to serve. So mass communication became more top-down’: a ‘few’ mediating to the ‘many’. In contrast, digital journalism means online news has the scope to be a two-way conversation between news producer and news receiver. Audiences can enter into dialogue with news providers, rather being passive. Greater interactivity means that online writing tends to be more personal, giving reporters, editors and news anchors the chance to be more human and connect with their audience in deeper ways than the styles that were actually invented to relay dispatches over a very shaky transatlantic cable. This can be very challenging to traditionalists, but journalism isn’t fixed – it has to be dynamic. History shows that media organisations embrace technology to increase efficiency, reduce costs and maximise audiences but there is evidence that recent developments may – ironically – have the potential to wrest some of that power from the corporations. In the early twenty-first century, networked computers, digital cameras and mobile telephones with multiple functions are affordable by ordinary consumers. Digital content, capable of being used across media platforms, can be produced by ordinary citizens as well as professional news gatherers. This begs the question..”Would you trust a citizen brain surgeon?” This is a common refrain as the news industry grapples with the idea of a technologically empowered public. Audiences can take a very different and active role within the news-making process, seeking alternative news sources or actively providing content. This reconfigures the relationship between journalism and citizens and raises important questions about its role, status and function in society. You may have seen that the The Guardian, which is owned by a trust rather than a conglomerate, is promoting its open journalism, seeking to work interactively with readers and other partners in what is describes as an open Eco-structure of information. Editor Alan Rusbridger sees the role of the paper as to aggregate, curate, and distribute rather than hiding behind pay walls. When covering the Arab Spring, for example, it used a lot more north African writers rather than only its star reporters and translated into Egyptian to widen access. Readers of interactive online news are free, within editorial constraints, to select the stories they wish to read, investigate them in how much depth they want and, potentially, respond to them. Increasingly – and most significantly – news receivers are being invited to share in producing the news content, taking on some of the functions of journalists by circulating information, images, video footage, audio clips and text. Look at recent examples: The 7/7 attacks on London, when the public took over reporting because of news blackouts. The riots, when news crews were forced out over fears they’d pass footage to police. Ok, coverage was shaky, exaggerated and fabricated in some instances but an accurate picture soon built up. While broadcasting Goliaths such as Sky News and ITN flew in big-name presenters to riot-stricken cities across England, a couple of Sikh men, calling themselves Sangat News, armed with a point-and-shoot camera stole the headlines. New technology could revive investigative journalism. Increasing pressure on news outlets to be fast and first means that journalism which is both expensive to produce and time-consuming to gather has a much lower priority than entertainment. The Internet, and the closer rapport it engenders between journalists and their audiences, might serve to regenerate in-depth reporting. There have been experiments such as crowdsourcing’. For example, The Sunlight Foundation, a nonprofit, non-partisan Washington, D.C.-based organization gave tools to citizen journalists so they could find out which members of US Congress employed their spouses. Although it is often viewed as a challenge to the traditional news media, the Internet might better be conceptualised as their complement – supplementing and interconnecting the work of professional journalists with that of citizens. Web-based citizen journalism has the potential to be, as one commentator described it, ‘People who are non-journalists committing random acts of journalism’. bringing us closer to a vision of the public in the interests of democracy. Not only does this offer a diverse array of viewpoints but it may also take the agenda-setting power out of the hands of a few and into those of the many. Interactivity will compromise journalism’s impartiality severely, which has been the main argument used against it by mainstream news proprietors. When the public can easily access a wide range of views through the Internet, it is increasingly likely that they will turn away from outlets that fail to reflect their personal opinions. This has led senior broadcasters to propose, controversially, that the BBC embrace the idea of ‘radical impartiality’, in which public service broadcasters would accommodate the dissemination of a broader range of views. Surely the aim should be to encourage more and more feedback from and engagement with news audiences, who may shape the agenda and potentially provide an important ‘check and balance’ on the quality and truth of the news? This is less of a problem for newspapers and independent websites which are allowed to adopt editorial standpoints, which might open the way for newspapers to capitalise. Objectivity can be complemented by transparency. Before stepping down as prime minister, Tony Blair made a speech criticising the British media, during which he singled out the Independent newspaper as a ‘metaphor’ for what happened to the news during his tenure, saying it was ‘well-edited and lively’ but ‘avowedly a viewspaper not merely a newspaper’. The ‘red issue’ of May 2006, guest-edited by Bono from U2, was perhaps the most famous of the Independent’s front pages, and drew attention to what some see as the skewed news values of many media outlets. It combined the headline ‘No news today’ in yellow text on a red background with a much smaller subheading at the bottom of the page, which read, ‘Just 6,500 Africans died today as a result of preventable, treatable disease’. News outlets must ask themselves what they can provide that people are willing to pay for. Selecting and explaining key news items would appear to be a sensible shift for the industry -look at what the Guardian achieved over wiki leaks and phone hacking. Though it has to be said – those peaks in sales were short lived. And look: While Lord Justice Leveson interrogates the practices of the tabloid press, pornographer Richard Desmond is allowed to control channel 5 and uses print media to peddle the triviliased fayre of his television output. That’s what I mean by the impact of corporatised insidious profiteering.
We can only speculate what the future of journalism holds. But I think the e-generation and new technology aren’t the danger. Digital developments have arisen amid media consolidation and mergers and at a time when corporations allow a news-as-commodity approach to dominate production values and editorial strategies. The Internet and its associated journalisms are trying, albeit haphazardly, to fill a gaping news chasm which opened long before the first website was launched, the first podcast uploaded and the first blog posted. They are an important reminder that journalism has always been an annoyance, a scurrilous activity, operating on the borders of society, in dark recesses where ordinary people fear to delve. Its practitioners have never done the job to be liked or admired. The routine practices of news editors and reporters were not invented in one fell swoop. They arose and evolved from particular circumstances and philosophies. And they are still arising and evolving, thanks to the opportunities that technologies bring. Journalists themselves are understandably wary about the new online environment, but more due to the ever greater demands placed on them by managers rather than the technology itself. I have faith in journalists like the ones we train and educate at Brunel. In the future, as has been proven in the past, they will find a way to accommodate these changes for the benefit of the public interest.
This question’s back in my mind as I follow the Leveson Inquiry. I was once ‘phoned up by a celebrated UK-based investigative journalist while I worked as a lecturer at another London university journalism department. This journalist demanded to know background information about a student I had taught a couple of years previously who was now embroiled in a story involving one of his paper’s rival outfits. When I declined to provide any details or comments – he wanted to know the student’s grades and my thoughts on whether she was a ‘good’ student or not – he became verbally arrogant, citing ‘public interest’. The story was not in the public interest, and seemed to me to be point scoring between two rival media giants. He claimed he already had quotes from other academic colleagues, which was later denied by those parties. By now, he was lecturing me in a rather haughty fashion on how to be a journalism lecturer, citing how the story would be a ‘good case study’ for one of my ethics classes. Remaining composed despite the now booming barrage, I told him that I did not feel it either ethical or in the public interest for academics to start spouting personal details about their former students to journalists. What kind of message does that send to incoming students about the integrity of those to whom they entrust their funds and their futures?
The career of the prolific pop artist Prince has become inextricably intertwined with the history of popular music since the late 1970s. This multi-instrumental icon, who remains one of the highest-grossing live performers in America, has been called a genius for his musicianship, composition and incredible performances. But Prince holds iconic status for more than his music. Best known for his racial blurring and extravagant sexual persona, Prince’s music and visual iconography has always chimed with the ambiguity of subjectivity at any given moment. ‘Prince’ the sign offers a space for fans to evaluate and reconfigure their attitudes towards their own identities, and towards their position as subjects within the socio-cultural sphere. This much-needed interdisciplinary analysis is the first of its kind to examine critically Prince’s popular music, performances, sounds, lyrics and the plethora of accompanying visual material such as album covers, posters, fashions, promotional videos and feature films. Specifically, the book explores how and why he has played such a profoundly meaningful and significant role in his fans’ lives.
Contents: Preface; Introduction; The making of the authentic pop icon; Inscription of otherness: dandyism, style and queer sensibility; A god of earthly pleasures; Voicing the erotic and the sublime; ‘Take me with u, Prince’: female identifications with a male pop icon; The Princian sonic universe: matters of compositional and performative proficiency; The live experience: performance and performativity at the O2 Arena; Selected discography/filmography; Bibliography; Index.
About the Author: Professor Sarah Niblock, Head of Journalism, Brunel University, London, UK.Professor, Stan Hawkins, Department of Musicology, University of Oslo, Norway
Reviews: ‘It’s about time! Prince, pop’s SEXY MF, has long been a subject of fan praise and speculation. While acknowledging these deep veins of adulation and conjecture, Hawkins and Niblock critically rewrite them through refined interdisciplinary inquiry. The result is a rich account of the intertwined complexities of Prince’s profound musicianship, performance verve, and positioned subjectivity.’Steven Feld, University of New Mexico, USA
‘In Prince: The Making of a Pop Music Phenomenon, Stan Hawkins and Sarah Niblock have written a thorough, scholarly and insightful study of the cultural impact, iconic status, and the work of Prince. They have explored the psychology behind Prince’s writing and behind the perception of his work by the public and by critics in a way that is engaging, convincing, and exceptionally well researched. This is a book that every serious student of popular culture (and especially of Prince) should read.’ James E. Perone, Author of The Words and Music of Prince
I’ve picked up at least three potential exclusives – just through random conversations over the course of one morning. None of these have been noted by the press round where I live.
I would gladly report them for the local media but they don’t appear to give out freelance contracts so I don’t have the official press credentials to get two of these tales ‘stood up’ by police in Haringey and Islington boroughs.
Without that double-sourcing, I won’t go into the details here except to say that in one case there are claims of a significant delay in police appealing for witnesses, which residents feel have public interest repercussions.
Two of the stories were gleaned in the course of disposing of rubbish at a council depot where staff were buzzing with details and happy to share with all-comers. They couldn’t understand why they were unreported and were keen for everyone to be aware.
The third story came from a young woman living in the heart of the troubles in Tottenham. It was about a meeting to be held on Tuesday evening, which she was worried about. Her partner was too close to recent events, she felt, and she was considering whether she wanted a future or the children she was planning to have with him any more. The emotional as well as physical impact recent events are having on residents and relationships is the grist of local feature writing and colour pieces.
My point is simple – journalists should be out on the streets of their patch, chatting to anyone and everyone and building a recognisable presence in their area. That way, when something does happen, you’ll be the first to know and you’ll be properly reflecting the concerns and interests of your readers. Even a couple of hours a week can make all the difference to you and your community.
No journalists appear to have been covering Saturday’s march and protest by family and friends of Mark Duggan, the man who was shot in an altercation with armed police last week.
This lack of reporter presence means we will never have an unbiased account of what turned the apparently peaceful protest into a riot.
There have been many unconfirmed reports that Met Police officers used batons on a 16-year-old protestor. Meanwhile, the media are reporting official statements by police that a ‘small minority’ saw the protest as an opportunity to cause trouble.
Now reporters such as The Guardian’s Paul Lewis, who was one of only a very small number of journalists covering Haringey, are using Twitter to try to garner eyewitness accounts.
It was evident on Saturday night, when rioters attacked Sky and BBC satellite vans, that there is huge distrust for the media. Journalists, some claimed via social networking sites, might be evidence-gatherers for police seeking to arrest and prosecute.
Whatever citizens might think of the national media (let us not forget the biased, inflammatory and inaccurate coverage of the Broadwater Farm riots*), sensitive and responsible local journalism might have had an important role to play in averting this level of conflict and violence.
I am mindful of Jake Lynch and Annabel McGoldrick’s assertion in their book, ‘Peace Journalism’ that “most coverage of conflict unwittingly fuels further violence.” Though they talk of conflicts overseas, their central argument that the media can be a force for moderation is highly applicable in any conflict situation. Some of their suggestions are actually what good local journalists ought to be doing – interviewing a wide range of characters rather than seeing it as one side versus the other, humanising all players rather than sensationalising or stereotyping, and allowing the aggrieved on all sides a voice.
The sheer lack of local coverage, bar unedited press release reproduction of official statements, shows that local journalists aren’t being tipped off to attend marches or get exclusive interviews with families. They are at best viewed with suspicion alongside the national media or, at worst, so detached and absent from the beats they are meant to embrace that local people don’t even know they are covering the area.
If ever the people of Haringey and, now, other inner city zones need a representative and active local media it’s now.
