John Lemza's Clio II Blog

Special Needs Web Access

I have never felt comfortable trying to describe individuals who carry the burden of a physical or cognitive disadvantage. There is no real politically correct way to tag that reality without sounding too contrived. While I was teaching we steered a course to avoid the rocks and reefs of offense while trying to navigate a track of greater inclusion. Sometimes we did it well and at others we hoped a fog would roll in and our transgressions would not be noticed.  But it was obvious that no matter what we did we couldn’t erase the fact that it’s just a real burden not being able to do something that everyone else can in a world that was created to accommodate them. The articles in this week’s readings are an attempt to get at the heart of the matter by addressing some of the most common obstacles to those that don’t see and hear as well as the majority of the population. If the physical world is tough, just imagine how tougher it is to navigate in a virtual web world; the Web Aim screen reader simulation was a good example. Still no matter how many adaptive technologies are applied and how aware we are of the challenges, not all can be satisfactorily addressed. I thought about those visually impaired individuals who have difficulty with colors even before I read Mark Pilgrim’s piece, Dive into Accessibility. Granted, there are quick fixes for identifying links (underlining and bold) but can they really use programs like Photoshop, or appreciate the subtle hues of colors in a picture. Probably not, no matter how web designers attempt to ameliorate the shortcoming. Individuals like my daughter who carry the burden of cognitive learning disabilities really exist beyond the scope of most new media designers. True, some adaptations like more sound and pictures, and better navigation devices are a plus. But they don’t really address the myriad of mental processing shortfalls that are present. It is a wide field. Suffice to say that web designers are using tools at hand with some effect and they need to continue to explore possibilities. My severely dyslexic daughter learns things faster and has a greater comprehension rate when she uses on-line resources than if she sits in a straight lecture class with a monotonic professor. When I taught history at the college entry level I applied those devices that were effective with her to reach my students: more videos, more PowerPoint slides, music, guest speakers, and short YouTube clips. Student class reviews, participation, and grades reflected the effectiveness of those new media techniques. Any effort that amplifies the benefits of the web and includes individual users who are at a disadvantage should be encouraged. As scholars and historians we must learn how to increase accessibility to our sites lest we lose an audience that deserves to be included and who in their own right may lend a special creativity of their own.

                               

Blog Postings for 13 March 2010

This week I commented on the following colleagues postings:

Alan Brody: Another excellent post. I enjoy the use of epicurean analogy. But as Alan remarks, it's not the garnish but the main dish that counts!

Becca: I enjoyed reading her perspective of Ed Tufte's book and criticism of his "visual assault."

Curtis Vaughn: Adventures in Digiland! A good title. I've had similar frustrations doing archive work.

Photographic Skullduggery

Errol Morris’ photojournalistic investigation of cattle skulls in the Bad Lands opens an interesting dialogue regarding the placement of photos in historical context. Even before he presented his mosaic of arguments I was already working through the dialectics considering the possible points of view regarding the veracity of historical photography. Morris’ description of the relocated skull and the mysteriously placed mantel clock immediately conjured from my memory Roger Fenton’s cannonballs in the Valley of Death (Who from Clio I could forget?) and the almost painstaking contrivances some savants employed to challenge the truth of the images: shadows, compass directions, positions of firing batteries, and a surly guide with ill-fitting shoes. But the truth of it lay not necessarily in the image itself but the message it was trying to communicate – that there were a heck of a lot of cannonballs flying around on that particular day. Morris eventually reaches similar conclusions – should we be really concerned with the details of the image (the numbers of teeth missing from pink combs) or the message it conveys? In the mix he touches on the labors involved by the photographers, their trials at the hands of critics, and even consideration of the person viewing the image. Is it necessary or correct to indict the photographers of skullduggery as they attempt to work their art to get just the right shot? Certainly as historians we want to ensure that photographs represent as much of the truth as is possible but some latitude must be applied; no one photograph can assure one hundred percent certitude of a specific moment, historical or not. I realize this in the photos that I include in the web pages I create to describe the Berlin Airlift. Cheering, waving crowds standing on piles of rubble welcoming Allied planes bringing relief supplies while off to the side a young boy stands atop a signpost to catch sight of the event. How did the kid get up there? Did someone lift him up? Were the shadows on the aircraft representative of the right time of day or the direction the flights came from? I think I’ll leave those questions in the dust with the moldy cannonballs and cow skulls. Suffice to say something important happened in June 1948 at Tempelhof airport and the photograph carries that message. As Morris concludes, “all photos are posed” and “there is no such thing as pure documentary evidence.” After all didn’t we learn from Moretti that historians decide what evidence to include and what to leave out? Why shouldn’t photographers be granted the same license? The value is in the message.

Blog Postings for 28 February 2010

Postings left for colleagues:

Dan Gifford: I agree with Dan's criticisms of the digital non-standards based environment and the challenges it poses for our work.

Dan Ludington: I agree with Dan's criticism that Tufte used perhaps too many case studies and examples, although I did pick-up a few good parlor tricks with cards and magic.

Curtis Vaughn: I agree with some of Curtis's frustrations; based on mutual experiences!

Visual Veracity

Just as I discovered some element of relative comfort in Edward Tufte’s instructive constructions in Visual Explanations the suggestion came to mind that it was at least a first cousin of Franco Moretti’s Graphs, Maps, Trees. Both Tufte and Moretti use narrative text and diagrammatical contrivance to describe abstract concepts, and both do it fairly well. Last semester Moretti’s trees seemed to be a target worthy of a casual lampoon, but this semester he emerges apparition-like from Tufte’s penumbra to display some real sense (Tufte is the elder, having published first in 1997, Moretti shuffling behind in 2005). Both are about visual displays of information and the correct and incorrect interpretation of data (hats off to the brewery boys who stayed away from the Broad Street Cholera Pump). (30) But central to Tufte’s argument is the cohesiveness and integrity of visual evidence. As he unfolds his approach he engages in a useful, if not entertaining, set of devices to demonstrate design, scale, de-quantification, relationship, integrity, clarity, cause and effect, and parallelism, to cite a few. Peeking under his charming flaps (which must have caused the publisher fits and us a few pennies more) I realized that Tufte may have just as well been instructing us in writing. That epiphany came just as I arrived at his textual example of Gibbon’s narrative parallels (79). That cerebral bridge having been established it appeared easy to understand that both the visual and narrative bodies carry the burden of proof on their shoulders. For the analog historian the crafting of the word is the thing, for the visual artist the image is central. But for the new media journeyman the word and the image are twined imperatives. The digital page must engage both employing available devices in an effective Tuftesque manner to underwrite the veracity of its argument. That’s the charter for our digital design, keeping in mind also Occam’s prescription.’

Text Assignment Upgrade or Clean-Up on Aisle Five

I received some great comments and suggestions from Beka regarding both my portfolio page and my text assignment. I appreciate the creative artistic lens she applied when studying my work, especially the observations regarding the use of color. Color has always been a weak spot for me and although I can tell the red light from the green at an intersection I struggle to select black socks from among the navy blue (that's my daughter's job as most women don't seem to have this challenge). It doesn't help either that my bionically reconstructed right eye (thanks Uncle Sam) interprets light, color, and size differently than my left eye. So Beka's comments are indeed welcome. I will add as a caveat however, that the pages I construct in Dreamweaver appear slightly different when they are presented on the GMU host, especially in subtle shades of color. I appreciate all suggestions as I continue to rework the pages and continue with my 'clean-up on Aisle Five.' Thanks! 

Blog Postings for 19 February 2010

I just critiqued the text assignment pages of the two colleagues who follow me alphabetically in class. THe comments were posted to their blogs.

I reviewed the work of Dan Ludington and Alexander Lesanu. Dan has done a particularly good job with his background and use of text. A nice site that works well with his portfolio page!

Blog Postings for 14 February 2010

Posting's left for colleagues:

Gretchen Beasley: I appreciated her comments on learning a new [digital] language.

Lynn Price: I agree with her feelings about the constancy and tangibility of books.

Laszlo Taba: I concur with his thoughts on the social changes derived from new media.

Curtis Vaughn: I agree with his thoughts on copyrights of intellectual materials and the gates that can be created.

The Late Great Kate

While taking a quick second read of Gert Himmelfarb’s “Where Have All the Footnotes Gone?” this weekend I was struck by her comments regarding the late Kate Turabian (Kate Larimore Turabian, Feb 26 1893-Oct 25 1987). The former University of Chicago doyen of manuscript minutiae is still renowned for her permanent imprint on the rules governing the publication of theses and dissertations. A copy of her Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses and Dissertations sits on my bookshelf nearly alone, its only companion is The Little, Brown Handbook. The other books seem to shun them both. But in thinking of the strict rules of compliance that Turabian produced and which possess “the quality and authority of a covenant” I began to consider digital composition. In a structural sense I think that we as new media historians are still bound by rigid strictures of form that Turabians of the past have laid down. CSS style sheets provide the structure for digital creators much as the Chicago Style Manual does for the pen and parchment crowd, and just as Turabian could be a cruel mistress with a red correction pencil stuck in her graying bun the CSS can be even less forgiving - one mistake can net you 22 cascading errors. So, not very much seems to have changed. But there the similarity ends. Creative freedom enters along with html and the ability to modify, color, re-color, resize, insert, crop, and generally derive gestalt from our web creations without fear of punitive punishment. Veracity of content can remain but it is in the presentation that it departs from the surly bonds of analog styling and gives flight to the creativity of the imagination and inspires new scholarship without fear of trespassing on limiting “arcane and inviolable rules.” Perhaps a new Turabian will one day appear to place the governors on web creativity. Yet lest we mourn her passing there’s already a link to the eTurabian Citation Generator! Link to eTurabian 

Blog Postings for 8 February 2010

Two more comments on colleague's postings as we all catch up with our work:

Rwany's post on a Shoestring was, as always, insightful and right on the mark.

Toni Bowman's post on John Henry Twachtman's Round Hill Road was both lyrical and as refreshing as the pacific snow it described.