Would you take career advice from a sushi chef?

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The cohorts of Baby Boomers who entered the workforce during the latter stages of the Industrial Age represent the last generation who contemplated lifelong employment in the same career, if not in the same organization or even in the same job. Here in the Information Age, with increasing numbers of employees engaged in knowledge work, the notion of a single career for life, let alone a single job for life, is pure fantasy.

In the Information Age, our willingness to embrace career change is as important as our ability to develop and maintain our core technical skills. For example, while we may think it is necessary to become experts in the latest technology, it’s equally important to understand how and why that technology is being deployed in particular situations – this is where the real learning occurs, as both the content and the context for that technical application will inevitably change.

The Agrarian Age helped define the concept of life-long occupations – in agriculture, the military, government service, science and medicine, the trades and professions, and even among unskilled labourers.  Think of the workers who toiled their whole lives on building the great mediaeval cathedrals, never to see the final results of their labour as those major construction projects took several generations to complete.

The Industrial Age ushered in occupations that relied on workers acquiring and applying technical, practical and manual skills that in essence changed very little during their lifetime, particularly on manufacturing production lines. This era also saw the development of the formal workplace and business establishments, in contrast to the largely home-based work patterns of before.

The Information Age continues to see rapid changes in workplace structures, employment patterns and career development. This change demands that knowledge workers constantly improve their skills – keeping up to date with new technology, engaging in the latest management theory, embracing new business models. This continuous learning process is not best served by staying in the same role, the same environment or the same mindset for lengthy periods. Personal change is a surer way of keeping in touch with universal changes.

So for latter-day job seekers who are looking for insights into their own career choices and options, why would they take career advice from someone who has been doing the exact same thing for 50 years or more?  I was reminded of this when a recent edition of my high school alumni newsletter reported that a long-serving member of staff had retired after more than 40 years in the job. During my own time at the school, this particular teacher was also the careers adviser, and without meaning to disrespect his teaching abilities, why would anyone take careers advice from someone who had stayed in the same job his whole career?

And yet, who could fail to appreciate the explicit career advice in the critically acclaimed documentary, “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” (made by David Gelb in 2011)?

Jiro Ono has been making sushi for over 70 years, but continues to hone his skills as a sushi shokunin, always seeking perfection, constantly finding new and better ways to create his dishes. As a master sushi chef, Jiro makes sure he knows his suppliers and is familiar with their produce. As a leader he is quick to acknowledge that the food he serves to his customers is the result of much hard work and detailed preparation by his team of chefs. As a teacher, his Michelin 3-Star restaurant also offers lengthy (and highly valued) apprenticeships to aspiring itamae who are willing to dedicate themselves to pursuing their craft.

Even though the daily process of producing the highest quality sushi seems repetitive and even tedious, it is the willingness to face each day as both a new challenge and a fresh opportunity to improve one’s skills that gives Jiro his core purpose and sense of career satisfaction.

From personal experience, my own career development continues to be about defining my core values and improving my skills, understanding how to apply them in new situations, and how to enhance them by learning from colleagues, mentors, clients, suppliers and competitors, or from on-the-job and formal training.  Like Jiro the sushi shinkonin, I try and make this a daily process, by reflecting on how something can be done better or by understanding how new information can be incorporated into existing solutions.

Many of us working in the Information Age will recognize that we don’t pursue a single, linear career path, but engage in a series of both distinct and overlapping career sequences, connected by a common thread of transferable skills and inter-disciplinary learning applied to new roles, new projects or to new client engagements. Our challenge is to ensure we maintain purpose, relevance and a sense of direction as we navigate our “transactional” careers.

Footnote: The soundtrack for “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” features several compositions by Philip Glass, which seems totally appropriate, on several levels:  Glass, like fellow minimalist John Cage, is attracted to various aspects of Japanese culture; and as a minimalist, Glass’s music is often criticised for being repetitive, even boring – but attentive listening reveals that the repetitions subtly shift, revealing minuscule changes in pattern, rhythm and texture – much like every piece of sushi tastes subtly different.

Is being “creative” more authentic than being “realistic”?

How do we judge something to be authentic in the Information Age? In the 1990’s, I worked on several projects to transfer reference books from print to CD-ROM and on-line formats. Because much of this material comprised official documents of record, the digital versions had to be “authentic” to the hard copy (even though they were being presented in a totally different medium) and employ embedded cross-referencing, indexing and other navigational tools. In short, the digital editions had to have the visual likeness of a microfiche copy, the readability of an e-book, and the functionality of an html5 website (if I may be permitted a mixed technical metaphor).

The quandary facing many product developers and content curators these days is, “How far should we go in the pursuit of “realism” (and by inference, “authenticity”) when having to make editorial, creative and technical choices to achieve credible outcomes?” And as consumers, the challenge we face is, “How do we know that what we see, read, hear or experience is an accurate depiction of something that actually exists or once happened/existed, or that it represents a consistent rendering/interpretation of real/imagined/possible events within the context and confines of the media being used?”

The issue is not about “real” in contrast to “virtual”, “original” as opposed to “replica”, “copy” rather than “counterfeit” – and certainly not about “truth” over “fiction”.

I’m not going to dwell on whether our virtual lives are any more/less authentic than our flesh and blood existence – that’s a matter of EI and self-awareness. I’m not interested in debating the merits of CGI technology in cinema, or questioning the use of auto-tuning in pop music – that’s a matter of aesthetics. And I’m not even going to argue that Photoshop has no place in the news media – that’s a matter of ethics.

I’m more concerned with understanding how technology, combined with content, connectivity and convergence has reshaped the way we engage with new media, to the point that our ability to assess information objectively is impaired, and our experience of authenticity is seriously compromised.

Now for a test: Which of the following statements is the most authentic (or least inauthentic)?

1) “Documentary claims NASA commissioned film director Stanley Kubrick to fake the TV images of the Apollo 11 moon landing”

2) “Pop singer Beyonce mimes to the national anthem at President Obama’s Inauguration”

3) “Jane Austen to publish a new edition of “Pride and Prejudice”, featuring FaceBook, Twitter and sexting”

4) “Apple Corp announces that The Beatles are reforming, and will be performing their 1967 album “Sgt Pepper” live on tour”

OK, before dissecting the answers, I confess that one of these scenarios is totally made up – although, as we shall see, all of them have some basis in “reality”, and each of them presents a different dimension of “authenticity”.

1) Moon Landing: A few years ago, a documentary by William Karel called “The Dark Side of the Moon” suggested that NASA had indeed faked the Apollo 11 broadcasts. This story was based on an actual conspiracy theory that the TV images were a hoax, giving some credence to the notion that the Americans never went to the moon. The documentary uses a combination of recycled/re-contextualized archive footage, scripted interviews featuring real people playing themselves and professional actors playing fictional characters. To add credibility to the hoax theory that NASA commissioned Stanley Kubrick to shoot the fake moon landing in a studio, Karel involved Kubrick’s widow and other former colleagues. However, the names of the fictional characters are taken from characters in Kubrick’s own films. There are also bloopers and out-takes from the “interviews”. So, by the end of the film, it should be clear that the whole thing is a clever set-up – except that for some moon landing sceptics, “The Dark Side of the Moon” has lent support to their conspiracy theory. Recently, Gizmodo posted a brilliant rebuttal to the hoax theorists – namely, that neither NASA nor Kubrick could have faked the moon footage in 1969 because the required technology didn’t exist at that time…. I guess we’ll call this one an authentic/fictional mockumentary based on a real/imagined conspiracy theory concerning an alleged/improbable hoax.

2) Beyonce: It was revealed that Beyonce lip-sync’d her rendition of the national anthem, but she was miming to a real recording that she made with the actual US Marine Band the day before. Apart from the ongoing debate about whether pop singers do/don’t or should/shouldn’t mime during live performances (and let’s not get into the use of pre-recorded backing tracks…), the issues here are three-fold:

a) Does it make any difference to our experience of the event? (Probably not – anyone who heard Meatloaf perform at the AFL grand final a while back probably wishes he HAD been lip-sync’ing…)

b) Is Beyonce the first performer to mime at the Inauguration? No, and she won’t be the last, so big deal (Pre-recorded material is often used in these situations to compensate for bad weather, poor acoustics or possible technical hitches).

c) Does it make for a less authentic event? Possibly, but as others have pointed out, the President had taken the official oath the day before, and the outdoor event was more of a ceremony.

So, I’ll just label this an innocently staged event incorporating a well-intentioned fabrication designed to give the public what they want.

3) Jane Austen: This particular example of literary license does not involve the posthumously discovered work of a 19th century novelist. It doesn’t feature a 21st century medium channelling words from a dead writer. It doesn’t even concern the literary conceit of a contemporary author attempting to re-imagine a sequel to a classic work by an illustrious predecessor. (Although similar publishing events to all three scenarios have occurred in recent memory, so each of them is theoretically possible.) Instead, this refers to the forthcoming third “Bridget Jones” novel by Helen Fielding. It is generally  acknowledged that Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” was a reference point for Fielding’s first novel “Bridget Jones’s Diary”. The latter is neither a pastiche nor a parody of Austen, but does use similar themes and scenarios from “Pride and Prejudice” and places them in a contemporary context. Given that Fielding has recently been quoted as saying she has an interest in internet dating, it’s not too far-fetched to suggest that her characters will be busily sexting each other after a long session in the local wine bar. Let’s put this one in the category of artistic hommage, respectfully and authentically executed with due deference to its literary source material, and with a keen awareness of contemporary mores.

4) Sgt Pepper: OK, I admit that this scenario is totally fake, but it provides for some interesting hypotheses on how it might be done (assuming today’s technology, so no time-travel involved).

First, some background: as part of the music industry’s infatuation with managing and curating its back catalogue, there has been a noticeable trend for artists to tour and perform entire “classic” albums live on stage. This phenomenon reached its zenith last year, when German electronic band Kraftwerk performed a different album from their back catalogue at eight consecutive concerts staged in New York’s Museum of Modern Art. (Actually, I recall seeing Pink Floyd in 1977 when they played their two most recent albums, “Animals” (1977) and “Wish You Were Here” (1975) in full and in the exact same sequence as the original LP’s…)

Second, until cryonics and human cloning are a scientific certainty, I won’t be suggesting that we exhume the two members of The Beatles who are no longer with us, or grow a couple of replicants. Equally, I’m not interested in whether the 2009 interactive video game, “The Beatles: Rock Band” allows me and my friends to re-enact the experience of being The Beatles playing on stage – it’s not the same as a live concert performance.

Instead, here’s how the “Sgt. Pepper” album might be brought to life:

a) The surviving members of The Beatles recruit some colleagues to make up the numbers (cf. The Who, Rolling Stones, etc.)

b) A Beatles tribute band is hired to recreate the album faithfully and in its entirety (cf. too many examples to mention – there’s even a new trend to recreate “classic” rock concerts on their relevant anniversary. Meanwhile, American band Devo formed a new “version” of themselves, called Devo 2.0, comprising young unknown musicians – tellingly, this venture was a collaboration with Disney)

c) Use holograms to substitute for the missing members of the original line-up (well, holograms aren’t yet viable, but ghostly projections are a possibility – cf. deceased rapper Tupac – and the music business has produced various examples of posthumous, exhumed and recreated material featuring dead pop stars, The Beatles included)

d) Send out a team of replica android Beatles to perform on stage (cf. Kraftwerk – again)

Except that, the “real” Beatles abandoned live performances in 1966, thus they never performed any of the songs from “Sgt. Pepper” live in public (in fact, “Sgt. Pepper” is generally considered to be the first example of a rock album created totally within a studio environment, and never conceived of as a live experience, even though it is a loosely-defined concept album featuring a fictional “live” band – how post-modern can you get?). Hence, any attempt to stage or recreate a live concert of “Sgt. Pepper” as performed by The Beatles, even if it is plausible, would have to be considered totally inauthentic. But with  imagination (and a little help from our friends?) we can always dream…

POSTSCIPT: After posting this article, I came across the following insight into the creative process by novelist William Boyd:

“…the best way to arrive at the truth is to lie – to invent, to fictionalize. The curious alchemy of art – rather than the diligent assembling of documentary fact – can be a swifter and more potent route to understanding and empathy than the most detailed photographs or the most compendious documentation. You have to do your homework, sure – authenticity has to be striven for – but in the end it is the fecundity and idiosyncrasy of the novelist’s imagination that will make the thing work – or not.” [Taken from Boyd’s anthology of non-fiction writing, “Bamboo” (2005)]

Gizmodo

Beyonce

Fielding

Back Catalogue

Edifice and Artifice – Urban Planning and Verisimilitude

Art can provide a compelling antidote to all the moral, philosophical, economic, scientific, religious and political hyperbole that bombards and confronts us every day. By referencing the technical processes of artistic practice, the study of art history and the language of critical art theory, we can learn to interpret and navigate these conflicting forces, and even challenge them. In our increasing over-reliance on all things digital, we need an artistic sensibility to help us re-connect with tangible reality. There are also some suggestions that enlightened companies have started hiring art graduates to bring an alternative perspective to their organizations – to tap into hitherto under-utilised skills and to employ this external expertise for internal problem solving, decision-making and strategic analysis.

Two recent cultural experiences have provided me an opportunity to reflect on how more than ever we need art to help make sense of the world, especially when interpreting data and making strategic planning decisions based on informed assumptions, market research and business analysis – because the standardized digital representation of everything means we often fail to venture beyond the surface of things.

The first event was a screening of “Urbanized”, an intriguing documentary by Gary Hustwit, showing at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image. The film is the final part of Hustwit’s design trilogy (following “Helvetica” and “Objectified”) and looks at several examples of good (and bad) urban planning around the world.  It provides cause for both optimism and pessimism on the future of the city – but it is mostly a positive survey.

One critical section of the documentary is an exploration of Brasilia, a flawed example of a “planned” city, with marvellous civic edifices and expansive freeways – except that for the people who live there, especially poorer and car-less citizens, it just doesn’t work as a built environment where they are supposed to live, work and play. Scratch beneath the surface, and we see a dysfunctional city. The moral of this particular story is that planners need to engage with the community, and work from the perspective of the end user, not simply from a visionary blueprint. Meanwhile, Stuttgart provides a salutary lesson in how poor public communication around policy, decision-making and execution can lead to a government being voted out of office, yet the majority of voters remain in favour of the politicians’ original planning decision.

There are so many things to like about this simple but effective film: the absence of a voice-over, allowing the stories to largely speak for themselves (within the usual confines of editorial decisions); the choice selection of urban locations and planning case studies; a range of informed and mostly objective participants and commentators; plus simple cinematography and a great soundtrack. Now I want my own city to adopt the public bus system from Bogota and the bike lanes from Copenhagen (and maybe the High-Line Park from New York).

The second cultural event comprised two solo (but related) exhibitions at the National Gallery of Victoria, featuring the photography of Thomas Demand and Jeff Wall respectively. Both artists produce large scale works, both employ sculptured components (light boxes used as fames, images printed on Perspex to imply depth) and both of them use constructed or staged settings to create their images.

Thomas Demand’s work looks deceptively simple and straightforward – mostly large still-life pictures of urban, industrial and technology-based interiors. However, if we dig below the surface verisimilitude, we can see that the images are really photographs of models made from paper and cardboard – sculptures that meticulously and painstakingly recreate these scenes rather like stage-sets, which simultaneously seem totally familiar yet frankly disturbing. This latter response can be explained by the absence of people and an eerie lack of any human presence in the images, plus the knowledge that all this visual data is merely a form of hyper-reality; but at the same time it is actually false, or at best an impression or recreated memory.

In comparison to his counterpart, Jeff Wall’s photography has the appearance of being more naturalistic (especially as most of Wall’s images feature people in everyday settings), even though in some cases it is just as surreal and hyper-real. The latter is achieved by the use of scale and backlighting, while the former is implied by the contradiction and juxtaposition between subject (content), and setting (context). This body of work also incorporates more narrative elements, and manages to make external references to literature, film and art history.

Both artists are quietly academic in their practice, and to some viewers this might present a barrier to understanding if they are not familiar with the accompanying art theory or critical analysis. But this need not be an obstacle to our engagement with the work, allowing us to appreciate it for what it is, and to reach our personal interpretations and conclusions.

Art enables us to relate individual stories and collective experiences, and recognizes that there are many truths, not just a single truth. Without art, we would lose a vital tool to interpret and narrate much of the world around us that cannot be explained by other media. And in the digital age of “virtual” and “hyper” realities, increasingly art is the only tangible means we have to give context and substance to our imagination without it being compressed and dis-intermediated by reductionist and homogenised technologies.

Finally, art in the 21st century is probably the only continuous link we have to our past – because as language and technology have evolved over time, art remains a constant aesthetic touchstone.

http://www.acmi.net.au/lp_urbanized.aspx

http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/whats-on/exhibitions/exhibitions/jeff-wall-photographs

http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/whats-on/exhibitions/exhibitions/thomas-demand