Legendary Classical Guitarist Andrés Segovia Plays Timeless Pieces by J.S. Bach

“Elec­tric gui­tars are an abom­i­na­tion,” the great Span­ish clas­si­cal gui­tarist Andrés Segovia report­ed­ly said, “Who­ev­er heard of an elec­tric vio­lin, elec­tric cel­lo or, for that mat­ter, an elec­tric singer?” We’ve now heard all those things, more or less, and civ­i­liza­tion has not yet col­lapsed around our ears. Segovia, it’s said (by his most accom­plished stu­dent, no less) was a bit of a snob. Or put anoth­er way, he was a purist. And while that qual­i­ty may have made him a dif­fi­cult per­son at times, and a very exact­ing teacher, it also gave him such devo­tion to his instru­ment, and the clas­si­cal music he inter­pret­ed with it, that we will always think of the name Segovia when we think of clas­si­cal gui­tar.

Segovia’s “mere name,” writes Joseph Steven­son, “was enough to sell out hous­es world­wide.” A prodi­gy whose tech­nique was “supe­ri­or to that which was being taught at the time,” Segovia made his debut at the age of 15. Just a few years lat­er, he played Madrid, the Paris Con­ser­va­to­ry, and Barcelona, then, in 1919 made a “wild­ly suc­cess­ful” tour of South Amer­i­ca. When he returned, the com­pos­er Albert Rous­sel wrote a piece specif­i­cal­ly for him, which he per­formed in Paris, “the first of many works,” Steven­son writes, “writ­ten for him by dis­tin­guished com­posers…. There were clas­si­cal gui­tarists before him, and dis­tin­guished ones even when he appeared, but it was not an instru­ment that was regard­ed as a seri­ous vehi­cle for clas­si­cal music. Segovia per­son­al­ly changed that.”

Being a pio­neer­ing instru­men­tal­ist in the clas­si­cal world, Segovia was oblig­ed to tran­scribe the music of his favorite com­posers for the gui­tar, includ­ing works by Haydn, Mozart, Chopin, Han­del, and, as we fea­ture here today, J.S. Bach. At the top of the post, see him play the Pre­lude to Bach’s Suite in G Major, writ­ten for the cel­lo. Below it, he plays Bach’s Gavotte, also writ­ten for cel­lo. Just above, hear the Suite in E Minor, writ­ten for the lute, and below, the Par­ti­ta in E Major, penned for the vio­lin.

Segovia’s con­tri­bu­tion to clas­si­cal music is ines­timable, and though he may have looked down on pop­u­lar musi­cians with elec­tric gui­tars, many have adored him. Ringo Starr is a big fan (Segovia inspired him to pick up clas­si­cal gui­tar). Punk front­man Ian Drury namechecked the clas­si­cal mas­ter in a song. And Segovia has more in com­mon with pop musi­cians than he would have ever liked to admit—taking up gui­tar against both his par­ents’ strong objec­tions and becom­ing a self-taught super­star at an ear­ly age. He may be firm­ly ensconced in the clas­si­cal world musi­cal­ly, but as far as his fame and rep­u­ta­tion goes, Segovia was a rock star.

You can lis­ten to Segovi­a’s com­plete Bach record­ings over at Spo­ti­fy.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

All of Bach is Putting Bach’s Com­plete Works Online: 100 Done, 980 to Come

Down­load the Com­plete Organ Works of J.S. Bach for Free

The Sto­ry of the Gui­tar: The Com­plete Three-Part Doc­u­men­tary

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

An Animated Introduction to Leo Tolstoy, and How His Great Novels Can Increase Your Emotional Intelligence

Despite our fond­est intu­itions and most cher­ished of cul­tur­al notions—manifested for decades in aspi­ra­tional “Great Books” cours­es and read­ing lists—there is no “com­pelling evi­dence,” wrote Uni­ver­si­ty of York pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy Gre­go­ry Cur­rie at the New York Times in 2013, “that sug­gests that peo­ple are moral­ly or social­ly bet­ter for read­ing Tol­stoy.” Or any­thing else for that mat­ter.

On the con­trary, respond­ed Annie Mur­phy Paul at Time, “there is such evi­dence,” and she cites ear­li­er psy­chol­o­gy stud­ies that show a link between read­ing fic­tion and empa­thy. Lat­er that same year, social psy­chol­o­gists David Com­er Kidd and Emanuele Cas­tano pub­lished a study in Sci­ence titled “Read­ing Lit­er­ary Fic­tion Improves The­o­ry of Mind”—or, in oth­er words, improves empa­thy. The study is enthu­si­as­ti­cal­ly picked up by Sci­en­tif­ic Amer­i­can, and picked apart by Slate. In short order, Neu­ro­science gets in the game, and there’s talk of chil­dren’s brains “light­ing up” like Christ­mas in response to Har­ry Pot­ter and oth­er books. The Guardian’s “Teacher Net­work” col­umn finds in this sci­ence con­fir­ma­tion for what edu­ca­tors already sus­pect­ed.

Like Cur­rie, Lee Siegel at The New York­er casts doubt on these sup­pos­ed­ly cel­e­bra­to­ry find­ings. Should we require that books prove their util­i­ty, that they make us “bet­ter” in the way that, say, dietary sup­ple­ments do? Is empa­thy real­ly a moral qual­i­ty, or sim­ply an abil­i­ty that allows the unscrupu­lous to bet­ter manip­u­late oth­ers?

This recent tem­pest of social sci­ence and skep­ti­cism notwith­stand­ing, nov­el­ists have long argued that their craft requires, and fos­ters, bet­ter under­stand­ing of oth­er people—or in the famous words of Kaf­ka, which Siegel quotes dis­mis­sive­ly, lit­er­a­ture is “an axe to break the frozen sea inside us.” Fore­most among such artists is Leo Tol­stoy, who—says Alain de Bot­ton in his School of Life video above—“was a believ­er in the nov­el not as a source of enter­tain­ment, but as a tool for psy­cho­log­i­cal edu­ca­tion and reform. It was in his eyes the supreme medi­um by which we can get to know others—especially those who, from the out­side, might seem unappealing—and there­by expand our human­i­ty and tol­er­ance.”

Were Tol­stoy a less­er writer, a the­o­ry like this might have pro­duced unread­ably didac­tic books unlike­ly to find much of an audi­ence. His great lit­er­ary skill makes his books engross­ing­ly enter­tain­ing despite these inten­tions. Nonethe­less, De Bot­ton shows us the ways in which nov­els like Anna Karen­i­na (find it in our col­lec­tion of Free eBooks and Free Audio Books) teach eth­i­cal con­cepts like “sym­pa­thy and for­give­ness.” And whether you read Tol­stoy express­ly to become a bet­ter per­son, or find per­son­al improve­ment a side-effect of read­ing Tol­stoy, I don’t think we need social sci­en­tif­ic argu­ments to read Tol­stoy. Indeed, though great nov­els may teach us many things we did not know about human com­plex­i­ty, their val­ue can reside as much in the ques­tions they ask—and that we ask of them—as in the sup­posed answers they pro­vide about human­i­ty.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Leo Tol­stoy Cre­ates a List of the 50+ Books That Influ­enced Him Most (1891)

Leo Tolstoy’s Masochis­tic Diary: I Am Guilty of “Sloth,” “Cow­ardice” & “Sissi­ness” (1851)

6 Polit­i­cal The­o­rists Intro­duced in Ani­mat­ed “School of Life” Videos: Marx, Smith, Rawls & More

Down­load 55 Free Online Lit­er­a­ture Cours­es: From Dante and Mil­ton to Ker­ouac and Tolkien

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

You Can Now Get a Master’s Degree in Samuel Beckett: Here’s How to Apply, and Maybe Get a Scholarship

beckett radio plays 1950s

Image by Bib­lio­thèque nationale de France, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

FYI: The Uni­ver­si­ty of Read­ing now offers stu­dents the chance to enroll in a new Mas­ter’s degree pro­gram focus­ing on the work of the avant-garde nov­el­ist, play­wright, the­ater direc­tor & poet Samuel Beck­ett. He’s been the sub­ject of many past posts here on Open Cul­ture.

Here’s what the pro­gram has to offer:

This inno­v­a­tive new taught MA pro­gramme on the work of Samuel Beck­ett is taught by world lead­ing experts on his work: Pro­fes­sor Jonathan Bignell, Pro­fes­sor Anna McMul­lan, The­atre & Tele­vi­sion and Pro­fes­sor Steven Matthews, Dr Mark Nixon and Dr Conor Carville in Eng­lish. Here you will engage in advanced archival research tech­niques using the exten­sive hold­ings of the uni­ver­si­ty’s world lead­ing Samuel Beck­ett Col­lec­tion, apply­ing these skills to the analy­sis of Beck­et­t’s writ­ing and per­for­mance work. The MA will also pro­vide the oppor­tu­ni­ty to explore the com­plex and fas­ci­nat­ing inter­dis­ci­pli­nary rela­tion­ship Beck­ett demon­strat­ed in his life­time through his work in a vari­ety of mul­ti­me­dia includ­ing film, the­atre, tele­vi­sion and radio.

You can find more infor­ma­tion on the pro­gram here, includ­ing details on appli­ca­tion process and the schol­ar­ship that’s being offered for the 206‑2017 aca­d­e­m­ic year. If you’re look­ing to get bet­ter acquaint­ed with Beck­et­t’s work, don’t miss the items in the Relat­eds below.

via Rhys Tran­ter

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Samuel Beck­ett Play Brought to Life in an Eerie Short Film Star­ring Alan Rick­man & Kristin Scott Thomas

Take a “Breath” and Watch Samuel Beckett’s One-Minute Play

Hear Samuel Beckett’s Avant-Garde Radio Plays: All That Fall, Embers, and More

Samuel Beck­ett Directs His Absur­dist Play Wait­ing for Godot (1985)

Mon­ster­piece The­ater Presents Wait­ing for Elmo, Calls BS on Samuel Beck­ett

Rare Audio: Samuel Beck­ett Reads Two Poems From His Nov­el Watt

Free Online Lit­er­a­ture Cours­es

Kickstart Pakistan’s First Hand-Animated Feature Film, The Glassworker, Inspired by Hayao Miyazaki

Casu­al ani­ma­tion fans have a cer­tain men­tal map of where inter­est­ing ani­mat­ed films come from, whose high­light­ed places include, of course, Amer­i­ca and Japan, as well as the Sovi­et republics that pro­duced some tru­ly strange and won­der­ful stuff back in the day behind the Iron Cur­tain. But now, a 25-year-old ani­ma­tor named Usman Riaz aims to put his home­land on that map as well with The Glass­work­er, which, should he raise its bud­get on Kick­starter, will become Pak­istan’s very first whol­ly hand-ani­mat­ed fea­ture film.

“Over the past five years, Riaz became known for an impres­sive, self-taught style of play­ing music that land­ed him the TED stage, on NPR’s Tiny Desk Con­cert, and an affil­i­a­tion with EMI Pak­istan,” writes Beck­ett Muf­son at The Cre­ators Project. [We fea­tured him play­ing gui­tar here on OC 5 years ago. See the clip below.] “But rather than tum­bling down the rab­bit hole of a music career in Pak­istan, he’s embraced his oth­er love: ani­ma­tion.” Muf­son quotes Riaz as remem­ber­ing how, “when I was a child, I admired the way peo­ple made pic­tures move. I spent long hours watch­ing films by Stu­dio Ghi­b­li before I could ful­ly under­stand what their mes­sages were. And they helped me see the beau­ty in the mun­dane, and the tragedy in the beau­ti­ful.”

Watch The Glass­work­er’s teas­er at the top or its Kick­starter pro­mo video just above, and you’ll imme­di­ate­ly feel the influ­ence of Stu­dio Ghi­b­li, mak­ers of such already time­less movies as Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the WindMy Neigh­bor Totoro, and Spir­it­ed Away, and its mas­ter­mind Hayao Miyaza­ki. Their inspi­ra­tion man­i­fests not just in the look of the film’s art, but also in its warty com­ing-of-age sto­ry involv­ing a young boy, an appren­tice glass­work­er, a young girl, and a vio­lin­ist, and even in its music, which to Riaz has the utmost impor­tance to sto­ry­telling: “The music deter­mines the scenes for me,” he said in his Cre­ators Project inter­view. “If I have a par­tic­u­lar idea or score writ­ten down the visu­als come auto­mat­i­cal­ly.”

If all goes accord­ing to plan and The Glass­work­er rais­es its $50,000 bud­get on Kick­starter with­in the next 45 days, Mano Ani­ma­tion Stu­dios — which Riaz found­ed along with a group of ani­ma­tors, design­ers, and pro­duc­ers from not just Pak­istan, but the Unit­ed States, Britain, and Malaysia just for this project — will release the movie in four parts, the first of which should appear in May of next year. Now that Miyaza­ki has osten­si­bly ani­mat­ed his last film, his fans have kept their eyes open for a pos­si­ble suc­ces­sor, though as Riaz him­self insists, “Noth­ing can touch Ghi­b­li.” But in this day and age, why should­n’t that suc­ces­sor come from Pak­istan?

viaThe Cre­ators Project

Relat­ed Con­tent:

French Stu­dent Sets Inter­net on Fire with Ani­ma­tion Inspired by Moe­bius, Syd Mead & Hayao Miyaza­ki

The Simp­sons Pay Won­der­ful Trib­ute to the Ani­me of Hayao Miyaza­ki

Watch Hayao Miyaza­ki Ani­mate the Final Shot of His Final Fea­ture Film, The Wind Ris­es

The Gui­tar Prodi­gy from Karachi

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Remarkable Physics of Ants: Watch Them Turn into Fluids and Solids at Will

Ants nev­er cease to amaze us. Over the years here, we’ve watched them cre­ate a liv­ing life raft in 100 sec­onds flatbuild sur­pris­ing­ly com­plex ant colonies, and demon­strate an uncan­ny kind of cen­tral­ized intel­li­gence. Now let’s add to the list the ways in which they can col­lec­tive­ly act like a flu­id or a sol­id, depend­ing on the demands of a sit­u­a­tion.

These obser­va­tions were made by sci­en­tists at the Geor­gia Insti­tute of Tech­nol­o­gy, who record­ed the video above and pre­sent­ed it at a 2013 meet­ing of the Amer­i­can Phys­i­cal Soci­ety. Watch­ing the video, you can see ants wield­ing pow­ers that we’ve only oth­er­wise seen demon­strat­ed in sec­ond tier super­heroes (no offense to the Won­der Twins intend­ed). And yet, accord­ing to The New York Times, these remark­able pow­ers may have some prac­ti­cal impli­ca­tions, lead­ing sci­en­tists to devel­op self-assem­bling robots and self-heal­ing mate­ri­als. By watch­ing ants build and repair bridges for them­selves, we can imag­ine cre­at­ing bridges that auto­mat­i­cal­ly repair their own cracks here in the mate­r­i­al world.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Physics Cours­es

Watch The Amaz­ing 1912 Ani­ma­tion of Stop-Motion Pio­neer Ladis­las Stare­vich, Star­ring Dead Bugs

Can Ants Count? Do They Have Built-In Pedome­ters? Ani­mat­ed Video Explains

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Mister Rogers Turns Kids On to Jazz with Help of a Young Wynton Marsalis and Other Jazz Legends (1986)

Fred Rogers gets unfair­ly pegged as a square, and I can see why: the dorky sweaters, aw-shucks Jim­my Stew­art demeanor, soft-spo­ken ethics lessons …. I mean, Mr. Rogers’ Neigh­bor­hood was no Yo Gab­ba Gab­ba, right?

Wrong. It was bet­ter. True, the man him­self may not have been a style icon. And he did­n’t have a hip, flashy stage show (though he does have his own amuse­ment park ride). He knew what worked for him and did­n’t try to be any­thing he was­n’t. But he had a very adven­tur­ous sen­si­bil­i­ty. For one thing, he gave hor­ror auteur George Romero his first job. And when it came to music, Mr. Rogers was deter­mined to bring his young view­ers the very best, whether that meant tak­ing break­danc­ing lessons from a 12-year-old or show­cas­ing the exper­i­men­tal weird­ness of ear­ly elec­tron­ic musi­cians Bruce Haack and Esther Nel­son.

But Rogers’ true love was jazz—his show was full of it thanks to long­time musi­cal direc­tor John­ny Cos­ta and an ensem­ble that includ­ed gui­tarist Joe Negri. In the episode above from 1986, Rogers meets up with jazz trum­pet great Wyn­ton Marsalis at Negri’s neigh­bor­hood music shop. They chat—in Rogers’ inim­itably sooth­ing way—about the impor­tance of prac­tice and the role emo­tions play in mak­ing music. Then they’re joined by Cos­ta, Negri, and the rest of Rogers’ house band to play “It’s You I Like.”

The clip will sure­ly be a treat for fans of Marsalis, then in his 20s, and only a year away from co-found­ing the now world-famous jazz pro­gram at Lin­coln Cen­ter. And it’s of course a treat for fans of Mr. Rogers, who already know how cool he real­ly was.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mr. Rogers Goes to Con­gress and Saves PBS: Heart­warm­ing Video from 1969

Mr. Rogers Takes Break­danc­ing Lessons from a 12-Year-Old (1985)

Mr. Rogers Intro­duces Kids to Exper­i­men­tal Elec­tron­ic Music by Bruce Haack & Esther Nel­son (1968)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

David Foster Wallace Reads Franz Kafka’s Short Story “A Little Fable” (and Explains Why Comedy Is Key to Kafka)

Just last night I was out with a nov­el­ist friend, one of whose books a review­er described as “the fun­ny ver­sion of Kaf­ka.” While he sure­ly appre­ci­at­ed the praise, my friend had an objec­tion: “But Kaf­ka is already com­e­dy!” Casu­al read­ers, many of whom haven’t set eyes on Franz Kaf­ka since col­lege, might car­ry with them a men­tal image of the ear­ly 20th-cen­tu­ry Aus­tria-Hun­gary-born writer as a crafts­man of pure bleak­ness: of frus­trat­ing­ly inac­ces­si­ble cas­tles, of per­se­cu­tion for unex­plained crimes, of hope­less bat­tles with bureau­cra­cy, of sales­men trans­formed into giant bugs. But Kaf­ka enthu­si­asts know well the humor from which all that springs, and their ranks have always con­tained quite a few oth­er nov­el­ists will­ing to point it out.

None of them have done it quite so elo­quent­ly as David Fos­ter Wal­lace, who deliv­ered a ten-minute speech on the sub­ject at the 1998 sym­po­sium “Meta­mor­pho­sis: A New Kaf­ka,” which lat­er appeared in print in Harp­er’s Mag­a­zine, where he act­ed as con­tribut­ing edi­tor. He begins, by way of illus­trat­ing Kafka’s com­e­dy, with the short­er-than-short 1920 sto­ry “A Lit­tle Fable”:

“Alas,” said the mouse, “the whole world is grow­ing small­er every day. At the begin­ning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept run­ning and run­ning, and I was glad when I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have nar­rowed so quick­ly that I am in the last cham­ber already, and there in the cor­ner stands the trap that I must run into.”

“You only need to change your direc­tion,” said the cat, and ate it up.

He also men­tions that he’d already giv­en up teach­ing the sto­ry in lit­er­a­ture class­es (one of whose syl­labi we’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured), which leads him to explain the “sig­nal frus­tra­tion in try­ing to read Kaf­ka with col­lege stu­dents,” that “it is next to impos­si­ble to get them to see that Kaf­ka is fun­ny… nor to appre­ci­ate the way fun­ni­ness is bound up with the extra­or­di­nary pow­er of his sto­ries.” Part of the prob­lem aris­es from the fact that “Kafka’s humor has almost none of the par­tic­u­lar forms and codes of con­tem­po­rary U.S. amuse­ment,” espe­cial­ly to “chil­dren whom our cul­ture has trained to see jokes as enter­tain­ment and enter­tain­ment as reas­sur­ance.” So what kind of jokes can we find in Kafka’s sto­ries, if we know how to get them?

There­in, Wal­lace argues, lies anoth­er part of the prob­lem: “It’s not that stu­dents don’t ‘get’ Kafka’s humor but that we’ve taught them that humor is some­thing you get — the same way we’ve taught them that a self is some­thing you just have,” all of which gets in the way of per­ceiv­ing “the real­ly cen­tral Kaf­ka joke — that the hor­rif­ic strug­gle to estab­lish a human self results in a self whose human­i­ty is insep­a­ra­ble from that hor­rif­ic strug­gle.” Of course, as Wal­lace adds in one of his sig­na­ture foot­notes, since “most of us Amer­i­cans come to art essen­tial­ly to for­get our­selves — to pre­tend for a while that we’re not mice and all walls are par­al­lel and the cat can be out­run — it’s no acci­dent that we’re going to see ‘A Lit­tle Fable’ as not all that fun­ny.” But read enough Kaf­ka, prefer­ably out­side the walls of a class­room, and you’ll get a much more expan­sive sense of humor itself.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Fos­ter Wallace’s 1994 Syl­labus

Four Franz Kaf­ka Ani­ma­tions: Enjoy Cre­ative Ani­mat­ed Shorts from Poland, Japan, Rus­sia & Cana­da

Franz Kafka’s Kafkaesque Love Let­ters

Vladimir Nabokov Makes Edi­to­r­i­al Tweaks to Franz Kafka’s Novel­la The Meta­mor­pho­sis

Franz Kaf­ka Says the Insect in The Meta­mor­pho­sis Should Nev­er Be Drawn; Vladimir Nabokov Draws It Any­way

Franz Kafka’s It’s a Won­der­ful Life: The Oscar-Win­ning Film About Kaf­ka Writ­ing The Meta­mor­pho­sis

The Art of Franz Kaf­ka: Draw­ings from 1907–1917

The Ani­mat­ed Franz Kaf­ka Rock Opera

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) Launches Free Course on Looking at Photographs as Art

Not con­tent with ban­ning self­ie sticks, the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA) is bring­ing visu­al lit­er­a­cy to the mass­es via its first for­ay into the world of MOOCs (aka “mas­sive open online cours­es”).

Cura­tor Sarah Meis­ter will be draw­ing on MoMA’s expan­sive pho­tog­ra­phy col­lec­tion for the free 6‑session, self-paced See­ing Through Pho­tographs class on Cours­era.

You won’t learn how to make duck lips in a mir­ror, but by the course’s end, you should be able to cast a crit­i­cal eye, with a new appre­ci­a­tion for the “diverse ideas, approach­es, and tech­nolo­gies” that inform a pho­tograph’s mak­ing.

The first week’s assign­ments include a video inter­view with Mar­vin Heifer­man, author of Pho­tog­ra­phy Changes Every­thing, below. Yes, there will be a quiz.

Expect assigned read­ings from John Szarkowski’s Intro­duc­tion to The Photographer’s Eye, and MoMA’s Chief Cura­tor of Pho­tog­ra­phy, Quentin Bajac.

There’s a lot of ground to cov­er, obvi­ous­ly. Meis­ter has lined up quite a hit parade: Ansel Adams, NASA’s moon pho­tog­ra­phy, Dorothea Lange’s “Migrant Moth­er,” Susan Meise­las’ “Car­ni­val Strip­pers” project, Cindy Sherman’s “Unti­tled Film Stills,” and Nicholas Nixon’s 40-year doc­u­men­ta­tion of the Brown sis­ters.

Prove your knowl­edge at the end of the six weeks with a final 30-minute project in which you’ll select an image that would be a good addi­tion to one of the course’s themes, below:

See­ing Through Pho­tographs

One Sub­ject, Many Per­spec­tives

Doc­u­men­tary Pho­tog­ra­phy

Pic­tures of Peo­ple

Con­struct­ing Nar­ra­tives and Chal­leng­ing His­to­ries

Ocean of Images: Pho­tog­ra­phy and Con­tem­po­rary Cul­ture

Enroll in this fas­ci­nat­ing free course here.

via Petapix­el

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Take a Free Online Course on Mak­ing Ani­ma­tions from Pixar & Khan Acad­e­my

Take a Free Online Course on Mak­ing Com­ic Books, Com­pli­ments of the Cal­i­for­nia Col­lege of the Arts

MOOCs from Great Uni­ver­si­ties (Many With Cer­tifi­cates)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

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