Why Beyonce is Perfect for Rhetorical Analysis

My students and I were recently discussing context and how context can impact our analysis of a text, so I, of course, was scouring for the best materials to discuss context in the various ways we can interpret that. This led me to Beyonce. Or, more precisely, Beyonce’s video for “Move Your Body.”

We can, of course, analyze this video independently. Based on the setting of a school cafeteria and population of younger backup dancers, it seems natural to surmise that this video is aimed at the youngun’s of America, for instance. However,  a lot of these elements gain deeper meaning when we place the video in context.

Actually, in the interest of full disclosure, I first saw this video posted on a friend’s facebook and I could see that there was something going on that didn’t conform to all the typical moves of the music video genre. Usually, there would be more time spent on glamorous close-ups of Beyonce, cut-aways to other scenes, or some austere, artsy move (e.g. lighting, quick editing, black and white). So, I went in search of this greater context that must’ve been fueling the decision to approach this video differently. And, yes, there was a reason for all these things.

This video is connected to First Lady Michelle Obama’s “Let’s Move” campaign. No, really. You can see Mrs. Obama herself doing the dougie (and the running man!):

If nothing else, it takes a brave woman to dougie for all of youtube. But, I digress.

This campaign is intended to teach children how to eat healthier and become active so that they grow up creating a healthier America. This is important context for the Beyonce video. “Waving the American flag” actually makes sense now. As does the emphasis on apples, bananas, and other fresh foods that show up in the Beyonce video. And, of course, the campaign is in direct reaction to the increase in child obesity and diabetes that have occurred in recent years. That is a specific surrounding context as well.

Above all else, the long shots of everyone dancing together rather than a video that is cut up so you can only see portions of the choreography is important and related to this campaign. They want us to copy this dance. And they enable us to do that. Not only is the Beyonce video shot so that we, the audience, can see the specific choreography, but there are subsequent videos detailing the choreography steps.

A still shot of the entire dance:

An instruction of the steps:

And, you know what? My students dug it. I dig it. I find this to be one of the most persuasive music videos I’ve seen and I say it’s partially because it’s so connected to this greater context. They’re so focused on the purpose they want to achieve and, because of that, they’re able to appeal to their audience in a creative, yet ingenious way. (Oh, and the fact that she can dance in those heels just blows my mind.)

They know it too:

Beyond the Main Story

So, sometimes we watch things and pay attention only to the important story line and other times we notice what’s going on in the back ground.

This classic Disney cartoon seems innocuous enough:

And then we notice a particular wall-hanging:

father as sausage links

Disney is sort of known for these moves. His films and productions are often picked over to unearth hidden texts and hidden meanings. I find this interesting because, at least in this instance, it’s so very blatant. I wonder if adding these kinds of details work as a way to keep the viewer around. We watch it once and we enjoy it. We watch it again and we start noticing the ominous underbelly. It’s a thought.

Family Matters: Issue #6 is LIVE!

The Harlot Family is excited to bring you Issue #6, specially themed on family rhetorics.  Much to our delight, our call for this special issue on family rhetoric attracted a record number of submissions.

For some, the connection was deeply personal; for others, cultural representations of family and/or the role of various communities on family drew shrewd attention.  Ultimately, the pieces in this issue were selected not only for their brilliant and creative insights about family rhetoric (how family members communicate with each other) and the rhetoric of family (how culture and society inform us about the meaning of family), but also because they represent an array of perspectives, experiences, and forms of expressing our connections and disconnections with family.  They teach us what “runs in the family” means and how family is manufactured, lived, understood, and reproduced.

Join us in the fun and help us make Harlot’s family even larger by submitting your work for consideration in our upcoming general issue (Issue 7), to be published Oct. 15th, 2011.  As you’ll discover in this issue, Harlot is not a print-biased publication.  We accept and encourage multimedia submissions.   After all, rhetoric in every day life exceeds the boundaries of print. 

The deadline for submissions for Issue 7 is July 15th, 2011.

More on the Problematic Hipstamatic

For those who haven’t yet read Mary Lord’s thought-provoking piece on nostalgia and photography in our current issue, I encourage you to check it out now.  The questions it raises are becoming increasingly relevant as the iPhone becomes more prevalent (especially in the wake of shifting to Verizon) and app-culture continues to burgeon.

But the import of these questions is elevated, it seems, when the hipstamatic application is used in the realm of photo-journalism.  Damon Winter of The New York Times was recently awarded a third place commendation from Pictures of the Year International for a series of shots published alongside an article on the mundane aspects of war.  The conversation that followed wasn’t about what the images depicted, but the medium with which they were taken.  Many cried foul.  Some suggested that such a drift toward mobile apps was inevitable.  Few welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Winter has weighed in on the matter; his full-length statement can be read here.  Some of his comments are rather interesting, especially when considered in light on Lord’s “Imag{in}ing Nostalgia” and the rhetorical dynamics of photo-journalism in general:

The problem people have with an app, I believe, is that a computer program is imposing the parameters, not the photographer.  But I don’t see how this is so terribly different from choosing a camera (like a Holga) or a film type or a processing method that has a unique but consistent and predictable outcome or cross-processing or using a color balance not intended for the lighting conditions (tungsten in daylight or daylight in fluorescent, using the cloudy setting to warm up a scene).

People may have the impression that it is easy to make interesting images with a camera app like this, but it is not the case. At the heart of every solid image are the same fundamentals: composition, information, moment, emotion, connection.  If people think that this is a magic tool, they are wrong.

Each photographer uses a technique or tool that helps him or her to best tell the stories and all of their work has been acknowledged and celebrated.  None of these techniques are grounded on the idea of visual accuracy but they are effectively used to tell stories, convey ideas and to enlighten, which is the real heart of our work.

Harlots in a Saloon: The LXD

Art is interesting. To me, at least. Dancing as rhetoric is also interesting to me. Shows specifcially dedicated to dancing as a metaphor for fighting and war is also neuron-firing. The LXD is a web-show from Hulu that I have discussed previously. I feel obligated to point out that the story lines’s a bit cheesy and the acting leaves a lot to be desired, but what they lack in acting ability, they make up for in pure dancing talent. At times, though, I can’t quite figure out the kind of symbolism that they choose to use.

Okay, an example would be nice, right? Let’s use the costumes then. In season 2 of LXD, we learn that there is not just one bad guy (the doctor), but multiple villains with the addition of this, um, shamrock guy?

Okay, not really. He’s supposed to look like a dapper wild west character–you know, very rich man in a saloon and all that, but don’t you think it looks a little Lucky Charms? Anyway, the wild west saloon motif is the style that he and his crew take on.

The evil doctor on the other hand makes even less sense. He himself dresses kinda like a PI from a film noir. See:

His crew seems to change with each episode. In “The Greater of Two Evils,” his band of thieves dress in a late Victorian Era-esque way–bowler hat and umbrella included. In this episode, then, we have the Wild West fighting the English “gentleman” (albeit modernized) with an always interesting dance sequence.

Now, it would make some sense if this kind of symbolism were consistent. On the one hand there’s the really wild and sporadic dancers–they crunk, they run up walls, their arms and limbs flail in wild directions and they wear saloon like gear in order to represent that wildness; that rebelliousness. The other bad guy, the doctor, is methodical, right? So his crew wears bowlers, they work as a team with specific choreography and have more restrained movements. Here’s the thing, though. This isn’t always the case with the doctor’s crew. He works in some kind of abandoned prison/insane asylum/hospital and he runs experiments on people who end up just as wild as the Wild Westers. Is this merely a case of it-seemed-cool-so-we-did-it?

Even more confusing is why the good guys, the LXD, would choose to dress western themselves when they go to face the Wild West Crew in “The Good, the Bad, and the Ra Part 1.”

What are they trying to convey with the costumes? Why would the good guys try to adopt the identity of a bad guy? What am I supposed to take from this? What is this costume trying to say to me? I’m just not so sure. Overall, this may be why this show is only okay. The dancing and choreography is amazing, so I keep watching, but if it weren’t then this inattention to story development would have me running for the hills. It appears that they aren’t conscious of their own rhetoric and that might be part of what creates these other problems. I’ll keep watching if I can, though. As long as the dance sequences continue to take up the majority of these episodes.

2011 Banished Words

It’s that time once again, where someone bring up words that have been overused and want banished into obscurity. According to Yahoo News, Lake Superior State University releases this list every year. This year’s list-topper is “viral,” which is more than fine with me if people stop saying the phrase “going viral,” but could run into some problems when trying to explain your next cold to your doctor. Other seemingly innocent words include epic, fail, and the American people.

Within a traditional context, these words probably wouldn’t bother anyone, but when put into the internet context, well, yes, it gets old extremely fast. I do find that so many of these words are anti-internet, though. Or, at least, the internet culture? Terms such as epic, fail, (epic fail), viral, and using google or facebook as verbs are specifically linked to the the way we’re using them within an online environment. Frankly, until google goes out, I don’t think I will stop googling searches and I don’t know anyone who finds the use of this perplexing or aggravating, so why ban it? Would banning these things also be denying a part of ourselves–the part that we choose to express online? Or would it be underestimating or not acknowledging this kind of culture that exists online?

data, information, knowledge, wisdom

Thanks, Kate, for the great post on McCandless’s animated visualization.  (Information is Beautiful is also the title of a truly terrific book of visualizations that I highly recommend checking out.)

The use of the word “problem” set me thinking.  If there is a problem, what is it and where is it?  One could argue, I think, that the sheer selection of certain numbers to work with posits an argument of sorts (opting for these categories instead of others suggests their relative importance, in other words).   There’s even a bit of narrative quality to the piece, with the credit crisis debt trumping all others and set in the sequence such that the music dramatically picks up as it’s dropped. So perhaps the piece does have an argument; it’s just not clear-cut.

Which suggests to me that if there is a problem, it does not lay with the piece–but with us.  Our problem is that we are asked to interpret the information and construct an argument of what it’s arguing.  Our interpretation–what does it mean?–is then automatically pitted against other interpretations, which is to say, argument against other arguments.

McCandless actually has another visualization that provokes a similar line of questioning using different terms:

Pyramid of Visual Understanding: Data, Information, Knowledge, Wisdom

Using this vocabulary, the problem we’re presented with is transforming information (the simple story of linked debt-centric elements) to knowledge.  This transforming act is no doubt affected by the natural trajectory towards wisdom (us rhetoricians may think phronesis would fit better here than plain old “wisdom”), which makes the entire interpretative process infinitely more complex–and interesting.

I’d be curious to hear what you think of this chart: its basic assumptions, what might get added, how it might be altered for teaching, etc.  And I’m sure McCandless would, too.  In his posting of this he actually links to a rhetoric blog run by Catherine Schuler, Assistant Professor of English and Professional Writing at East Stroudsburg University, so he’s demonstrated that he’s linked to our community in some fashion.

On a final note, I was intrigued by McCandless’s mention with “Debtris” that we should expect more “motion infographics” in 2011.  Interest in infographics has exploded in the past several years (even though it’s been around for a long time), but the move towards animation and video is taking new routes recently.  Check out this fascinating video by the dynamic Hans Rosling, for example:

Cat Wrapping

I have often wondered what I should do when cats, dogs, and various other animals lay on my wrapping paper  (or school work or books) and won’t move. Now, I have an answer.

I’m not saying that this is particularly rhetorically savvy or anything, but, I mean, look! The cat just lays there!

(And, yes, my brain is good and fried at the end of this semester. 😉