Academic literature on the topic 'Aftermath Entertainment'

Increased market concentration of multinational record companies, greater integration of major labels with international multi-media and entertainment conglomerates, as well as long economic recession were among the most striking developments of the 1980s to impact upon music-related industries. In the French-speaking province of Quebec (Canada), these developments, combined with local socio-political turmoil, left popular music in the throes of crisis and further jeopardised an indigenous music industry still in the making. The purpose of this paper is to examine the ways in which a local industry, by coming to terms with the aforementioned international developments, overcame what could well have spelled its doom.

This article reflects on the potential and challenges of implementing social psychological interventions in the aftermath of genocide, specifically focusing on an education entertainment media campaign in Rwanda. The analysis is based on the author’s experience working with a non-governmental organization in producing "Musekeweya"—a very popular violence prevention and reconciliation radio drama. The article highlights the advantages of using fiction as an effective tool to communicate messages about violence and reconciliation, and provide a safe space to address sensitive topics in post-genocide contexts. In addition, it outlines some of the challenges of translating existing knowledge to interventions that promote reconciliation in specific socio-political settings, such as Rwanda, where the government has implemented a series of programs and policies to achieve unity and reconciliation. The paper ends with a discussion of future directions to further increase social and political psychology’s potential to inform effective social interventions in the aftermath of violence.

AbstractThe French legislation of 6 January 1864 which deregulated spoken and lyric theatre nationwide showed little sensitivity to the distinctive financial ecology of regional theatre. Its effects were precisely the opposite of those its architects intended, and caused most disruption to the very constituencies the legislation was intended to help. Comparative analysis of the immediate aftermath of this ‘liberté des théâtres’ reveals a state of near chaos across France. Town councils oscillated between abandoning to the market their traditions of theatre as artistic social service, and pouring in yet more taxpayers' money just to maintain the status quo. Opera, as the most expensive art form, was the immediate casualty, ceding considerable ground to a vigorous entertainment sector based around the operetta repertory (including opéra-bouffe) and the café-concert chanson.

With P. T. Barnum's purchase of the American museum in 1840, freak shows became an organized and profitable institution that systematically used juxtaposition, innovative advertising, and questions of truth and humbug to entice audiences. Along with “scientifically” sanctioned pamphlets and cartes de visite, exhibits such as wild savages from around the world, human-animal hybrids, hermaphrodites, and armless and legless wonders played with the boundaries between self and other. Audiences could gaze safely without compunction about the displayed body as long as these distinctions were maintained within the confines of the show. But as social anxieties about difference intensified in the first few decades of the 20th century, a greater need to solidify the boundaries between black and white, male and female, and abled and disabled made this type of entertainment more disturbing and, at times, even dangerous. These concerns marked the beginning of the end for freak shows. By the 1920s, their popularity was not only threatened by changing attitudes in medical science and the rise of the film industry, but also by the aftermath of World War I.

Summary On the basis of a broad perspective on theatricality and tragedy in imperial Rome this article argues that theatrical and tragic elements play an important role in the episode on the death of Nero’s mother Agrippina in Tacitus’ Annals 14.1-10. These elements fall into three categories: 1) theatricality, 2) generic, tragic elements and 3) allusions to specific tragic texts. These evocations of the (tragic) stage serve to underscore Tacitus’ characterization of the reign of Nero and of imperial Roman society in general as fundamentally artificial. Tacitus’ use of tragic material does not reflect an Aristotelian, tragic vision of history, but rather stresses the theatricality of the historical events, drawing upon a cultural memory of Nero and Agrippina as the creators of, and actors in, their own farcical world. At the same time the episode is presented by Tacitus as the paradigmatic starting point of Nero’s engagement in various forms of spectacle entertainment (Annales, 14.11-22). In Tacitus’ presentation of the aftermath of the murder theatricality and spectacle represent a moral decline characterized by lascivia and licentia, reflecting Tacitus’ moral concerns.

As an afterword to the special issue of JMEMS “Performance beyond Drama,” this essay reflects on the complex ways that premodern performances and their embodied actors are captured in, mediated by, or dependent on the texts that we use to study them, and on the special importance of examining this process across a temporal framework—the fifteenth to eighteenth centuries—that challenges the periodizing schema of modernity. In particular, three major systemic changes impacted European performance practices and their documentation during this era: the more widespread availability and manufacture of paper, which made writing easier and reading cheaper, coupled with the introduction of print technology after 1455; the upheaval of the Protestant Reformation and its Catholic counterpart, and the bloody aftermath of religious wars, persecutions, and witch hunts that (re)shaped performance traditions; and the commodification and policing of entertainment through enclosure and regulation. Taken together, this special issue's contributions reveal fascinating convergences and continuities in performance across the medieval/modern frontier, while also showing how some medieval practices were made to conform with postmedieval political and religious projects, thereby obscuring or blurring the evidence for those earlier practices.

Tourists are pushed to travel to different destinations, either pleasant or macabre destinations, for various motives. Tourist motivation which determines one’s behaviour can be used to understand the tourists’ needs, destination, and choice of activities. This research aimed to investigate local tourists’ characteristics and motivation for visiting Museum Prasasti, which formerly served as a Dutch cemetery. It was conducted due to the limited number of researches on tourists’ visitation to cemetery sites in Indonesia. The research was conducted at Museum Prasasti, Jakarta. The data collection gained from the paper-based questionnaires using the Likert scale. This quantitative method was used to measure tourists’ tendency during their stay at Museum Prasasti. The measurement of motivation was divided into four major motivations: engaging entertainment, dark experience, unique learning experience, and casual interest. By collecting the data from101 responses, this research shows that local tourists at Museum Prasasti are mostly female, under the age of 30, students, and come from lower-middle-class society. The unique learning experience is the most favourable motivation that drives local tourists to visit Museum Prasasti. They visit the museum for educational purposes (to increase their knowledge, understand well-known places regarding their historical heritage, and learn their history). The dark experience motivation least likely motivates them (to see well-known locations for their paranormal activity, experience paranormal activity firsthand, and witness the aftermath of deaths).

In July 1791, the story goes, a small voodoo gathering in Santo Domingo sparked the Haitian Revolution, the first black anti-colonial revolution in history. The glorious history of the “Republic of the black Jacobins” was often celebrated by Surrealist artists in New York and Paris in their exposé of the decadent state of colonial powers in the aftermath of the Second World War. For instance, Haiti is central to André Breton's anti-colonial manifesto, Aimé Cesaire's idea of negritude, Rudy Burckhardt's lyric film symphonies, and Zora Neale Hurston's novels on creole culture. In New York, negritude did not have quite the same revolutionary appeal as in Paris, where Josephine Baker was hailed as a Surrealist goddess of “natural” beauty and power. But the electric Haitian voodoo performances of dancer and choreographer Katherine Dunham attracted a diverse community of African-American artists, émigrés, intellectuals, and communist sympathizers in the off-limits clubs, cafés, and private parties in Harlem. In its uncontainable, carnivalesque power, open forms, and sexual energy, Haitian voodoo captured an attraction to the “primitive” that affected American intellectuals and popular culture alike. Before becoming a Hollywood star, Dunham, of mixed West African and Native American roots, traveled to Haiti to study voodoo rituals for an anthropology degree at the University of Chicago. Fusing American dance, European ballet, and voodoo movements, she became a symbol of the black diaspora. In a recent film interview, Dunham recalls how her young assistant (or “girl Friday,” in the parlance of the time) Maya Deren was fascinated by Haitian dance and would use it to steal the show in rehearsals, public performances, and glitzy parties. The daughter of Russian Jewish émigrés and Trotskyite activists, Deren was struck by the power of this syncretic dance, which blended different cultural backgrounds and formed political consciousnesses while always providing entertainment and energizing dinner parties and giving voice to invisible deities. In her experimental filmmaking, Deren infused this magnetic power of dance into cinema.

Purpose The purpose of this paper is to examine the relationship between personal public relations practices, which trigger parasocial relationships between celebrities and their followers, and initial reactions to celebrity crises. For this purpose, the study analyzed Johnny Depp’s (JD’s) communication practices over a period of 15 years and assessed online perceptions of responsibility attribution and message valence in the aftermath of JD’s 2016 divorce and accusations of domestic violence. Design/methodology/approach The study employed the case study methodology and analyzed two data sets. First, a frequency analysis was conducted to determine the most prevalent cultural dimensions (Hofstede, 2011) present in JD’s interviews (n=116). Second, several χ2 tests were run on an additional sample of analysis (n=1,044) which comprised reactions on Twitter in the aftermath of the crisis. The study tested whether there was a relationship between culture, responsibility attribution, and message valence. Findings The results indicate a relationship between the dimension of long-term/short-term orientation and message valence, indulgence/restraint and responsibility attribution and finally, male dominance and message valence. These results suggest that, to a certain degree, the reactions to the crisis analyzed mirrored the celebrity’s public relations practices. Namely, cross-culturally initial responsibility attribution and message valence were influenced by the degree to which the celebrity’s values carried more weight in a culture than in others. Research limitations/implications The study only considered tweets that were written in English and stemmed from profiles that identified the location of the users. Furthermore, this analysis took a case study approach and assessed JD’s public relations practices. Therefore, it is difficult to generalize the results and their implications especially in circumstances in which celebrities do want to promote an image that deviates from their real identity so as to hide certain less appealing aspects of their lives. Nonetheless, the study represents a step forward toward the transition from marketing celebrities to promoting them transparently and around their personal values. Practical implications Currently, the entertainment industry is dominated by a marketing approach that commodifies celebrities to the extent to which their promotion deviates significantly from their personal values. As a result of this deviation, the approach makes it difficult to appropriately address crises since the latter constitute unexpected events. In addition, the marketing approach has been shown to further erode a celebrity’s well-being and lead to self-destructive behaviors. Conversely, a personal public relations approach allows practitioners to anticipate reactions to crises and respond adequately, therefore reducing further reputational damage. In addition, personal public relations practices trigger parasocial relationships between a celebrity and their followers by focusing on the transparent promotion of a celebrity, and therefore address concerns that celebrities raised in the past with regard to their objectification. Social implications Personal public relations practices shed light on the reality behind stardom and the promotion of personal values may be inspirational for celebrity followers. While marketing celebrities exposes publics to the glamorous life at Hollywood, personal public relations sheds light on the factors that triggered it, among which commitment, hard work, and/or dedication. Originality/value Currently, there is a paucity of studies that shed light on personal public relations and parasocial relationships in international contexts. In addition, the strategic communication literature with regard to celebrity crises lacks studies that analyze the publics’ reactions to crises. The present study aimed to fill these gaps.

In a letter written to King Æthelred of Northumbria in or soon after 793, Alcuin bewails the appalling aftermath of the Viking attack on Lindisfarne. He writes, ‘vineam electam vulpes depredarunt, hereditas Domini data est populo non suo. Et ubi laus Domini, ibi ludus gentium. Festivitas sancta versa est in luctum.’1 Alcuin's horror at Viking merriment is shared by a great many other medieval historians in their accounts of the depredations of the Norsemen. Adam of Bremen, for instance, laments the Vikings' assault upon the Franks in 882, in which they made so bold as to attack King Charles III himself, and generally ‘made sport of our people‘.2 Florence of Worcester similarly deplores the brutality of Sveinn Forkbeard's men, who invaded East Mercia in 1013, all the while ‘revelling in acts of savagery‘.3 William of Malmesbury remarks on the ungentle sense of humour of Cnut the Great, who, after inviting Earl Uhtred of Northumbria to surrender himself into his custody, promptly had his hostage put to death, as William puts it, ‘with inhuman levity‘.4 In short, it is not unusual to find medieval chroniclers expressing their distaste for the evident pleasure invading Scandinavians occasionally derived from committing acts of atrocity.

Britain’s Levantine Empire, 1914-1923 explains the rise and decline and nature and extent of British military rule in the urban eastern Mediterranean during the course of the First World War and its aftermath. Combining novel case studies and theoretical approaches, the book reveals the extent of military control that Britain established and anticipated maintaining in the post-Ottoman world, before a series of confrontations with nationalist and socialist anti-imperialists forced a new division of the eastern Mediterranean, still visible in the political borders of the present day. It tells this story through the eyes and ears of the British servicemen who built this empire, analysing the testimony of over 100 such military personal sent to Alexandria, Thessaloniki, Istanbul and the towns and islands between them, as they voyaged, made camp, and explored and patrolled the city streets. Whereas histories examining soldiers’ experiences in the First World War have almost exclusively focused on their lives at the frontlines, this book provides a much needed in depth history of soldiers’ experience and impact on the urban hubs of the Eastern Mediterranean, where urban planning, nightlife and entertainment, policing and security were transformed by the presence of so many men at arms and the imperialist interventions that accompanied them.

The transition of activist art from the utopian projects of the society as a work of art into its present activistic phase based on artists' serious political engagement implies significant aftermath in extra-artistic reality. Whereas the projects such as social sculpture (Joseph Beuys notion), temporary autonomous zones (Hakim Bey's concept), and total work of art (expression used by K. F. E. Trahndorff and R. Wagner) were accompanied by explicit confidence of artists in the liberating power of artistic creativity, today's activists enter pure political “direct action,” which often fits well to daily engagements of political parties. This chapter addresses the Slovenian case of Janez Janša activists' group deeply involved in daily politics, precisely in the struggle against the politician Janez Janša. In doing so, these activists deploy subversive affirmation as a new subtle political device that enables them an alibi due to their background in elitist institution of art.

This chapter examines the 1890 Ghost Dance, a nonviolent religious practice among the Lakota Sioux. In covering the Ghost Dance, daily newspaper editors Joseph Pulitzer (the New York World) and William Randolph Hearst (the San Francisco Examiner), along with the New York Herald and ChicagoTribune, experimented with the limits of news illustration. Their images mischaracterized the dance as a declaration of war, contributing to events leading to the massacre at Wounded Knee. Their quest for illustrations that were both “authentic” (photograph-based) and dramatic led editors to appropriate images from the entertainment marketplace (photographs of Sitting Bull, and Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show), for political and commercial benefit. The Lakota’s efforts had limited power to correct misrepresentations of the dance and its aftermath.

The negative effect of conflict-induced migration cannot be overemphasized. From overpopulation, unemployment, and then the attendant vices, the economic stability, political stability, and social stability of the host community all come under threat. Worthy of note also is the psychological state of both the fleeing migrants and the members of the receiving host community. In this chapter, the writer explores the possibility of transforming the effects of conflict-induced migration by using human capital development, implemented through the potent tool of film production. This chapter looks at film as a tool for such social stabilization, while exposing the treble nature of film, particularly as juxtaposed against politics, economics, and aesthetics. The writer outlines the results that can be gotten from entertainment education, vocational skill acquisition, and psycho-drama therapeutics to tackle political, economic, and social instability. By analyzing the Rwandan genocide of 1994, through the looking glass of the movie Hotel Rwanda (2004), and attempting in its aftermath to balance out the lingering effects of the genocide, the writer outlines a critical lesson for Nigeria to take cue from while facing her migration-induced conflict troubles.