June 2, 2008
Dear Clusterflock
Clusterflock’s official stance is that ‘copyright is old-fashioned’ (scroll to bottom of page). I wonder how various individual CFers feel about copyright. For myself, as a semi-professional writer and amateur sketcher and photographer, I don’t want anyone reproducing my work without my permission. So I’m at the curmudgeon end of the spectrum, pretty much feeling that US copyright law as it currently exists is pretty decent. How about the rest of you?
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I don’t want your bourgeois divorce.
The original copyright concept was fantastic, up until Sonny Bono Mickey Moused it….
http://writ.news.findlaw.com/commentary/20020305_sprigman.html
These are deep waters. I hope to dive in once I surface from another deep body of water. (You know the one. The one where they pay you.)
I am wading as well. Having never created anything worth protecting I must say that my stance is fairly liberal. I reserve the right to play the curmudgeon in this whole affair in the event that I ever become quotable however.
Tolkien fans of my generation may remember the old Ballantine paperbacks of Lord of the Rings and the odd note they carried about purchasing only editions which respected the rights of the author and paid him for his work. I didn’t understand it, to be sure, until I learned that another publisher had put out an earlier American edition, hinging on some loophole in the copyright laws, without Tolkien’s permission and with no legal requirement to pay him. That publisher was, I believe, eventually sort of shamed into ceasing the edition and even paying Tolkien–but they weren’t legally bound to. Something like that.
I’m pretty well steeped in copyright law, being the queen of libraries and all. Copyright law is so complex and open to interpretation–and so often misinterpreted–that I’m not surprised when people decide simply to ignore it. Copyright is intended to protect both the user and the creator. It is included in the US Constitution, not just to protect creators from theft, but to ensure a mechanism for the sharing of scholarly information.
In short, Copyright is necessary for all of us. Some of us just don’t realize it.
The laws are fine, in theory. The Mickey Mouse Copyright Extension Act makes the terms a bit odious, but that’s just a matter of degree. The real problem is that creative works have been freed from their physical manifestations, and now exist as immediately transmittable, infinitely reproduceable bits in the ether. By law, they’re still protected, but there’s just no good way of ensuring payment to the author. It would be like taxing knock-knock jokes.
There’s a sea change coming. Either we lock ourselves into an authoritarian future, with publishers meddling with our use “intellectual property” at every turn, spying on our TVs, locking our digital bookshelves…or we find a new model for paying content creators.
The latter seems the only viable course. Maddeningly and wonderfully, it’s a problem we can’t legislate our way out of.
It seems that technology has developed much faster than copyright law has, and ease of duplication makes it much more tempting to do just that. But It wouldn’t be hard to come up with many examples that would immediately demonstrate the need for such law. Contemporary culture thrives on a fluidity of possession, and also, sad to say, a sense of entitlement: “why should I slow my mind down–or any of my desire to manipulate information–just to accommodate the creator’s need to make a living from his or her work?” The answers people come up with are usually those that convert theft to a process of “sticking it to the man.”
I would like to see more attention paid, by lawmakers, to the need to more clearly define fair use. Perhaps it is clearly defined, and I just don’t know enough to know that. But I’m not alone: I know many very intelligent people who are constantly nervous about the materials they use in classrooms–and fair use is supposed to extent to educational purposes.
Tiffany and Mike, I’m with you on the Copyright Extension Act. It’s a total mess.
I’m in a perpetual fight with publishers and aggregators over licensing terms for electronic resources. We pay millions of dollars each year in licensing fees, only to have to fight with publishers who attempt to impose ridiculous access restrictions on their products, even within an academic environment. Copyright law trumps publisher policy, but copyright can’t keep up with changes in electronic publishing–so we go round and round. What is most galling is that the content of scientific publications comes from the very academics who need access to this information. Those academics generally don’t make a dime on the articles they produce for publication–so the big publishers are getting their content for free and charging the very institutions who provide that content through the nose for access.
Sorry, I got on my high horse for a minute. There’s much to be said–and much that has already been said–about reforming the scholarly publishing model and moving to an open access environment. A lot of us are working on this, but I don’t see the big publishers losing any sleep over it. It’ll take a major change at the Congressional level before we see any real progress.
Yes, Cindy. What frosts me is the fact that the producers of the ‘content’ so zealously guarded by publishers and aggregators are not profiting from licensing fees. I think that maybe even musicians get a better break from their distributors.
Maybe. Nowadays, anyway.
[Bo] Diddley frequently complained about not being paid royalties during his peak years, telling The New York Times, “Have I been ripped off? . . . You bet I’ve been ripped off.” (From the Irish Times)
bourgeois divorce aside, I always want to approach this conversation in terms of precedent. I think about Shakespeare’s plays, the appropriation he undertook, the original sources subsumed in his incredible creativity. I think of Eliot’s Wasteland, almost completely woven, with Pound’s help, from external sources. I think of Paul Metcalf’s books. If you want to shift mediums we can talk about Tarantino, among many others. I guess I fall on the side of those who have sometimes boldly stolen in order to create something new. while I despise those who steal from an artist’s mouth, as in the case of Bo Didley, I have a hard time imposing any limitations on what an artist should do. this is probably the only area I feel this way.
and I guess I should say that Eliot and Metcalf supplied sources for their work, but Eliot didn’t want to, and ended up wishing he hadn’t.
and if we want to take this further; what about Rauschenberg’s collages or erased de Kooning? What about his goat? What about Warhol? What about someone who takes a picture of someone else? I don’t want limits on what the artist can appropriate. I want limits on those who profit on the artists, who are not artists, at the artists’ expense.
In short, I think an artist should be able to steal anything.
and no, I have no idea how to police this.
Are you saying, Deron, that you should be able to take one of Daryl’s stories, insert it into one of your stories, and claim it as your own–the only concern being whether or not the final product is good?
To approach Cindy’s question from a somewhat oblique angle, I too would argue that society’s artistic creation is the raw material from which new works are created. I’m bothered that it requires a license and a rather hefty fee to publicly perform the “I have a dream” speech; ditto the fact that a production rider stymied an all-girl school production of Grease. The authors or their estates have valid and perfectly-legal reasons for requesting these protections, but do they serve the public at large? I don’t think so.
Out and out plagiarism is wrong, but so is allowing an author tyrannical control over new incarnations of their work.
No, you’re right Cindy. There has to be another layer. I think Rauschenberg’s erased de Kooning is a good example. In that case, de Kooning was in on it, gave his approval. What if he hadn’t? Would it have changed Rauschenberg’s owning of it?
Hit [PAUSE] button.
It strikes me that many, though by no means all, current discussions of ‘copyright’ founder on this business of a market economy — specifically, a ‘market’ for productions once offered to a community by a member gifted with a knack and a good memory (in exchange for honor, status, the privilege of shacking up in folks’ homes). Or subsidized by a patron possessed of wealth.
Now this is truly off the top of my head, but it seems to me that for Englisher-ers, Shakespeare’s time is when this really began to shift. (In fact, if you read King Lear from this perspective, that’s what much of the palaver about quid pro quo addresses — not a specifically literary marketplace, but a world-shift whereby the new model of a market exchange was coming to infect all human encounters.)
Scads of material about the Stationers Company and this new notion of copyright is available online, and some of it is worth checking out.
In any event, I think it’s important to distinguish between the ‘moral right to be recognized’ as the author of a work and the legal right to demand payment. Yes, those rights overlap — now, perhaps, more than ever. But let us try to be clear about just what it is we’re discussing.
(And try not to get all prissy, as I fear I did right there at the end.)
there’s always so much more to say.
It’s what keeps us in business!
good points Sheila, and so much at the heart of the discussion. that’s where I think the conversation becomes interesting, though, doesn’t it? partly because there are so many layers to it: economic, legal, aesthetic, personal, cultural, egotic, etc.
and how much of this is about either obliterating sources, as in Shakespeare, where he took over his sources so forcefully as to, one might argue, make the sources irrelevant, or cases in which the appropriation becomes a critical part of the construction, as in erased de Kooning.
this conversation makes my head spin in a good way.
richard prince
Performance fees are one thing; appropriation of another’s work into one’s own is quite something else. I think most reasonable people find performance fees–especially within a non-profit venue–to be ridiculous, and many have been challenged under Fair Use. And I certainly agree that art rests upon all that came before it–the artist builds upon what already is in order to create something new.
What I’m having trouble fathoming is the idea that, once an artist creates something, it somehow belongs to any individual who might want to use it for his own creation, in any way he sees fit. That is why I asked such a specific question, which seems to me to express the logical extension of the argument. I want to understand what kind of “bold theft” we’re talking about.
It’s good to note that copyright–with respect to written works–doesn’t protect the idea, only the specific wording. Shakespeare drew upon many sources, but he transformed them: his language is his language. Existing copyright laws protect things like parody and satire that use other works as launching points. And there’s an old saying that fits here too: you can’t steal a plot (because there are really very few of them). So the transformation of other people’s work is usually not a problem. The problem arises when there is little evidence of this transformation–or when the main claim to worthiness lies in the quality of the borrowed material and not in the secondary use of such. So who is to say when a work meets a level of quality that supesedes the rights the original creators might wish to retain? Should polical ad makers be able to use any song or speech or poem in an ad–and claim that it doesn’t matter that the creator’s politics differ from those pressed forward by the ad?
I remember an instance on Cluster when there was quite a debate about a film being mashed. As I recall, many of these arguments were brought out then.
Wanting to understand, as Cindy put it, is a good thing. Okay, so — shoot, I wish Cooper were in on this right now. I’m trying to work my way back to what might have sparked the initial post.
I do believe that we might as well dismiss any talk of such egregious abuses as Bo Diddley and countless other musicians suffered. Those are pretty crude instances of profiteers flat-out not paying some people as they pay others with sharper instincts or better representation. I brought Bo Diddley up because I’ve got him on the brain today, but his case doesn’t bear much relevance to what we’re gnawing on.
Which leads me back to the core of Cooper’s post, which he states unequivocally: “I don’t want anyone reproducing my work without my permission.”
Hmm. That alone offers plenty to ponder.
in the case of richard prince he is stealing advertising photographs and making them art. in duchamp’s case he is taking a urinal designed by someone else or putting a mustache on a leonardo and calling them his own. warhol did the same with the soup cans. the erasing of the de kooking is the art. if someone were to steal a story from Daryl, the stealing would be the art. of course, the ‘success’ of that stealing would be dependent on the ‘cultural importance’ of the thief. the point of my points is to point out the history of appropriation, the multiple layers of it, what we have come to accept, and what we haven’t. I am both signaling my comfort with this history and recognizing it differs with my feelings about other ethical issues. sometimes it seems the distinction artists want to make is, stealing non art to make art isn’t stealing, stealing art to make art is. I disagree with that.
Well, I’m sure Cooper knows that anyone may reproduce his work without his permission, if it has been published and is reproduced under Fair Use. And while I certainly can’t speak for Coop, my guess is that he sees this as fair and reasonable. But, shoot, I guess we need for him to say it.
I’ll try my ESP and send out brainwaves to Cooper. Cooooper, Coooooper, come to clusterflooocccckkkk.
We’ll see if that works.
Cindy, after you did that, the squirrel came back to my window.
So the transformation of other people’s work is usually not a problem. The problem arises when there is little evidence of this transformation–or when the main claim to worthiness lies in the quality of the borrowed material and not in the secondary use of such. So who is to say when a work meets a level of quality that supesedes the rights the original creators might wish to retain?
I think Daryl has zeroed in on the question here.
Deron, you leave that squirrel alone.
and the question I would also ask Renner is, should Eliot have needed permission for all the texts he lifted into the Wasteland? or all the texts that comprise Metcalf’s works? in what form does this permission need to manifest itself? I’m still curious what people think about the erased de Kooning. would it matter if de Kooning hadn’t consented?
Sheila–you steered it in the right direction with Coop’s note that “I don’t want anyone reproducing my work without my permission.” I think since we can all think of cases in which we would not want our words to be used, then the person in the best position to have the final say in such matters is the person who set those words down in the first place (aside from the expected rights of reviewers and the like quoting from works being considered). But here’s another question: if one feels justified in using another person’s work (or part of it), is there any reason why that work should not be credited (aside from it being so widely known as to not need such–as in “To be, or not to be….”)? I guess I have just seen too many people in writing classes who use the words of others and then say–Oh, I was quoting that person and just forgot to give a citation (when a clear attempt to seamlessly meld was present).
Cindy, Daryl, yes. let’s push this further. in the case of Prince, the only transformation is his appropriation (and in some cases enlargement) of an advertiser’s image. what if I bought a Richard Prince and displayed it as my own?
god I wish I had that kind of cash.
The de Kooning question is a good one. My immediate impulse is to say that it is brilliant, whether de Kooning cooperated or not. But I do not believe it would have ever succeeded without de Kooning’s cooperation. It would have become an act of aggression rather than a work of art.
One of the points, I think, is that the work of other artists should be respected as such. Artists should certainly cooperate and collaborate and push each other and improve on one another. But if an artist’s perspective is that everyone else’s work exists only to further his own, the artistic process becomes sullied.
Maybe all we’re talking about is having a little respect.
What if I make a copy of Pulp Fiction, and add a scene at the end of it which seems to show the film crew packing up all of their equipment–and in the background gangster types are involved in a car chase that doesn’t attract their attention or concern. I could say that this adds a level to the film that the original lacked–and since mine is better–I’m going to release my film.
Shit, I can’t keep up with this and I have to go home and eat the margarita pizza Daryl promised to make for me. I’ll be back half-drunk in a couple of hours, y’all.
I don’t want your bourgeois de Kooning.
I wonder: how does prior publication (or distribution) enter into this right to borow for artistic reasons? If a fellow writer shows me a work in progress–and I use a part of it in my own work before anybody else see it–is this a matter of artistic license or have I just fucked over the fellow writer? I’m just always going to say this would be a fuckover.
Tracy, I’m smiling so much it hurts.
Daryl, I agree, the example you mention, as well as a lot of this, is a fuck over.
one of my favorite examples of this is the Jeff Koons puppies sculpture lifted almost exactly from a photograph from a gentleman who considers his photographs to be art. Koons considered the man’s photographs to be schlock.
Cindy, the interesting thing for me about the de Kooning is that I didn’t know until recently that de Kooning had consented.
Copyright = necessary evil.
To return to Cooper’s concerns — Cooper, I’m rereading your comment alluding to the Ballantine editions of Tolkien and am confused. As I understand ‘moral rights’ — was this phrase part of the notice you recall? — they are distinct from the economic rights bound up in the concept of ‘copyright’. Yes? (Cindy?)
My head is beginning to reel. And I’m not even drunk. This is some complex bidnis, you bet.
I think that’s part of what’s so fun about it.
Oh it is fun–and I love the Jeff Koons example, Deron. It does point to the fact that “levels” of serious attempt are always being parsed. I guess the thing is: I’m all for artistic assertiveness, since that’s part of what it takes to “make it new”; but just as in the case of civil disobedience rightly pursued–it requires a willingness to stand behind what has been done and to face the consequences with the force of one’s argument. In many cases, art is of so little consequence that few will go to the trouble to stop what is regarded as piracy. But just try appropriating song lyrics from a popular song and see what happens. Those people will sue grandma and kick her ass out on the street.
Yes, Sheila. And I am now drunk, so I speak with absolute authority.
Excessive amounts of Sauvignon Blanc have honed my perception to this: If the result is great enough, the artist can appropriate away. But, alas, most artists are not great and therefore cannot get away with appropriation. They end up looking like pathethic poseurs, and on top of that, they make a lot of enemies in the process.
My drunken advice to all artists who might be reading: The vast realm of artistic creation does not exist simply to satisfy your limited creative perceptions. If you have a really great idea that involves the incorporation of the work of another, by all means, make sure it is truly great. Otherwise, I will not like you and will come after you.
Ten-four.
I don’t have the wherewithal to make any response that would cover all the responses here, but I don’t think I need to either. My opinion ain’t all that important. Cindy is of course correct that if an English teacher teaching new work wants to print out one of my poems from the web and give it to her students she can–I don’t have a problem with that. I do have a problem with someone putting his/her name on my poem. Or publishing it in an anthology, without my permission, to make money. Or assembling a collection of my poems without my permission and putting it up for sale. (Not that anybody would buy it. . . .)
And I don’t have a problem with quotation, of the Metcalfian sort. (I might have a problem with quotation of the Eliotian sort, just because I don’t like Eliot very much. Hinh hinh.)
The Tolkien thing was not about the moral right, if I recall correctly. His name was on the books. But he wasn’t getting any money from the publication because of a loophole in the law between the UK and the US at the time.
[...] Some thoughts on Richard Prince from Rob Haggart get to the core of our copyright discussion. [...]