In my research, I am interested in how mental labor has functioned under the 20th-century-long shift to a symbolic economy: that is to say, the work of the artist in the age of art’s mechanical (and now digital) reproduction. I am working on a book project that explores the ways that writers, artists, and musicians wrote about early jazz as a way of sounding out the possibilities of American nationality, ethnic multiplicity, and machine-age work and leisure. I have more recently become interested in the kind of extra-legal concepts of authorship and ownership generated by those intellectual property communities who rely on unwritten norms enforced by “local” consent—vaudeville acts and stand-up comedians, High Modernist allusive poets and hip-hop samplers, open source programmers and academic scholars.
As a teacher of writing and literature, I likewise want my students to think about the possibilities and constraints of the scholarly demand to produce novel, useful, and non-obvious—in a word, original—work. And whether I’m asking them to produce a theater essay in the dramatic form of “Living Newspaper,” or having them propose and design an alternative American literature course syllabus, or enabling them to contribute collaboratively to a class-authored wiki on concepts of authorship and ownership, my hope is that I can to provoke students to own and author their education through introducing them to an ongoing culture of scholarship. Thus, I ask students to think of scholarship not just as research and writing meant to give shape and depth to one’s ideas, but as an intervention in the ongoing work of a discourse community to whose preceding existence the student is expected to respond, and from whom the student should expect an answer.
American Literature
SPRING 20121