Attempts at (Re)photography in Florida

A big thank you to all of the Geographers and supporters thereof who converged on the Tampa Convention Center and Marriott for AAG last week, and a big apology in advance to all the ones who I met that won’t hear from me for a little while as I’m busy catching up on work and otherwise getting my life back in order. I had grand ambitions to do some work while in Tampa, but if you’re reading this you can probably take a wild guess as to how that turned out. As anyone who’s been to a conference like it knows, everyone’s too busy being constantly distracted in order to really accomplish anything other than make new connections and pray they remember you.

That being said, I was excited to see the book with a chapter I contributed displayed prominently at the Ashgate table in the exhibitors’ hall in such good company.

I would love to give Tampa proper some attention here*, but in the interest of time, I’ll skip right to the point. A few months ago, I posted cryptically about some antique postcards that came into my possession. Where the postcards are from will hopefully one day be under an organized-enough umbrella to present here, but for now, let’s have a quick chat about (re)photography.

The term “rephotography” (alternate “re-photography” or “(re)photography”) didn’t originate in Jason Kalin’s 2013 article (found here), but he did bring the scope of its uses to my attention last year. Considering how easy the internet has made it, our culture can barely digest content without (re)contextualization. This is both a good and a bad thing, but acting on what I hope is a good manifestation of it, I decided to set out on foot from the Tampa Convention Center to try to recreate one of my the postcards myself. The over-friendly hotel concierge** told me the Davis Islands were located a walking distance from the downtown area, though strategically disconnected from the Convention Center area proper. I suppose they didn’t want legions of drunken Lightning fans stumbling over from the Forum into their bars (which are located way too deep into the island for the casual ambler).

Anyway, here is the result of my efforts:


Not perfect, but I would have needed to defy death and stand in the middle of Bayshore Boulevard in order to get a more accurate recreation of the original artist’s perspective. Also, the bridge from Hyde Park over to Davis Islands has been remodeled, and the Davis Island residential areas of 2014 are a far cry from that of the pre-War era. Obviously, the hospital and adjacent office buildings were not there when D.P. Davis*** imagined this crazy project before building it and disappearing.

From what I can tell, the fencing by the harbor has largely retained its character, and the vegetation nearby in the foreground is even quite similar to the classic depiction. The bright yellow building depicted on the postcard can be seen at a distance to the right of the hospital today, which helps highlight how the postcard image (obviously painted to sell the city and the Davis development) is based on an off-scale interpretation. I would need to dig deeper and find archival photographs of Davis Islands in order to determine what exactly was misrepresented, and thanks largely to the conference that brought me to Tampa backing up my workload, I have no time right now. At least there’s always Google, right?


* If you’re in Tampa, though, and looking for great places to hang out, look no further than New World Brewery (Ybor City), The HUB (Downtown and if you’re okay with smoke), and the Independent (Seminole Heights, next to the wonderful money-pit Microgroove record shop). Full disclosure, we didn’t make it into the Independent since our ride downtown was leaving, but you could just tell it was awesome.

** If you’re wondering if that’s a reference, the answer is yes.

*** If you want to read one of the most fascinating accounts I’ve found about the mysterious Florida land developer, check out this history thesis by Rodney Kite-Powell. It helps explain his legacy and bizarre disappearance.

DC Will Do That To You (Part 1)

The sunrise over Mt. Pleasant.

Sunrise over Mt. Pleasant, Thursday March 20.

Prior to last week, I had not been in Washington, D.C. (for more than a layover) since August of 2012. I have always thought hard about what to write on this site about the DMV (DC-Maryland-Virginia, for the outsiders), but the right words have never really come to mind. I’ve gone on record repeatedly in several contexts that I’m a firm believer that “D.C. makes; the world takes.” Take a look at the last three decades of punk and alternative music history.

In the past few days since returning to Knoxville, my conversations about the city with people who’ve clearly spent little time there begs the question of how the Capital City has inspired so many different and divergent public perceptions of it. Many (way too many) people associate it with the Federal Government for obvious reasons. The Reagan-overlorded crack era of the 1980’s and the District’s difficult reputation simply won’t go away. In each of my conversations about it, the other person has admitted having misconceptions about it.

This photo has no real bearing to this post, but I wanted to take this opportunity to plug my favorite bookstore in the world.

This photo has no real bearing on this post, but I wanted to take the opportunity to plug my favorite bookstore in the world.

Despite having lived there for six pivotal years, my own opinions about DC are equally fueled by public (mis)conceptions and (sub)cultural ideals as they were from my actual days wandering up 18th Street to Smash! and Crooked Beat Records on payday, sitting on my Arlington front porch watching an early summer storm roll across the sky, and squeezing my way through the city’s overcrowded Metro.

I’ve got a few mammoth posts in the pipeline about D.C. I’m sure, but this will have to do for now. It’s been that kind of a week, and the afterglow of being back in such a hyper-inflated city that I gave so much of my life to has left me in such a strange state of introspection. But then again….

“D.C. Will Do That To You”

Existential Word Search (Part One)

So, I was thinking tonight, as I wandered out of my apartment on an errand, about how I used to imagine this place prior to actually seeing it and moving into it. I struggled to recall how I’d envisioned it when all I had to go on were vague descriptions from those who stayed here before me. I hadn’t seen any pictures, but I still envisioned it, based on the types of apartments and houses that surround it in its area of Long Beach. I went through something similar in college, imagining what my girlfriend’s house in Massachusetts looked like in the months leading up to my first visit over winter break. In both cases, after I did finally see and become familiar with the actual structures, my prior conception and mental imagery was nearly impossible to recollect.


Here’s what I wonder about this:

  1. Does the human brain naturally discard imagined geographies as soon as it inherits the information (visual, aural, etc.) of the real scene?
  2. Is there a phrase for this? Temporal imaginary spatial displacement or something along that line? Maybe retro-imagineering, to cautiously borrow a page from Disney?

Help me out if you have any idea what I mean.

Listen to Tyler and Tree discuss ‘Save the Clocktower,’ Imagined Geographies on the Radio


As was mentioned on Monday, Teresa “Tree” Anderson-Sharma joined me and Bret on our radio show to talk about just what we mean when we say “imagined geographies” pertaining to Hill Valley, CA and explain more about our project. What’s remarkable was just how much geographic material on the Back to the Future trilogy we didn’t even have time to discuss. Here is the hour show for your listening pleasure. Forgive the freewheeling format; we included some Huey Lewis & the News, if it helps our cause.

More updates soon about the Los Angeles AAG Meeting and other work in the pipeline.

Announcing ‘SAVE THE CLOCKTOWER: The Imagined Geographies of Hill Valley, CA, 1885 – 2015’

“History is going to change.”

I remember watching Back to the Future once during my sophomore year of college. My friends and I got into a serious discussion of why Marty McFly would have totally hung out with us if he hadn’t been merely a culturally iconic character played onscreen by Canadian actor (and cultural icon himself) Michael J. Fox. Marty was the perfect 80’s comedy/adventure protagonist; he was respectable, respectful, witty, good on a skateboard, and blessed with self-control during an era of Reaganist excess. Given Marty’s kid-next-door appeal, he was still iconoclastic and curious enough to both front a “too loud for school” rock band named after a Ramones song and to form a close personal friendship with an eccentric elderly scientist obsessed with time travel.

I didn’t completely realize it as a teenager, but the Back to the Future trilogy was a worldwide phenomenon. As Fox mentioned in an interview on a documentary included with the trilogy’s DVD set re-release in 2004, who wouldn’t want to go back in time and be able to meet their parents when they were their own age? This trigger set off a cultural earthquake that is still shaking 28 years later, replete with active fan clubs, the now-universal equation of a horrible, cocaine-affiliated car with the supernatural idea of time travel, and new referential material appearing in various corners of the internet about the trilogy on a literally daily basis.

The trilogy’s depiction of Hill Valley, CA and the fictional town’s development over the course of the four distinct time periods in which the films take place (five, if you count an alternate, Philip K. Dick-level dystopian future represented in the dark second film), is strikingly similar to the appeals of Marty McFly and time travel itself. It represents an ideal landscape to act as canvas for these fantasies: a mid-size, functional California community with an oxymoronic name that carries the positivities, shortcomings, and synthetic realisms that formulate the prototypical Everytown, USA as far as the 80’s were concerned.

Via Map of Hill Valley, 1885 based on geographic (re)constructions of the third movie.

The geographic ramifications run deep. Tim Cresswell, the noted British spatial theorist, once wrote how “even a totally imaginary place has an imaginary form in order to make it place-like.” So has Hill Valley developed such a tangible reality over the past three decades. Everything established across the three films, animated series, video game spinoffs/mods, and assorted feature stories about these items flies off the tongue pretty easily: the clock tower, the Twin Pines Mall, Hill Valley High, Biff’s Pleasure Palace, and more. I started wondering about how geographers would treat this subject about six months ago, but I hesitated to publicly post anything on social media. This wasn’t because I was afraid anybody would steal my idea; I was afraid that it would look silly, or people would just miss the point.

In came my good friends and colleagues, Teresa “Tree” Anderson-Sharma and David “Inky” Schwartz. The subject of geographic publishing came up amid an afternoon in San Pedro, so I decided to spill this idea I’d had swimming around my brain for the last half of 2012. Surely enough, they loved the idea, and a coalition was immediately born. Today, we are proud to announce that we are officially working on a collection of peer-reviewed essays on the imagined geographies of Hill Valley, CA!

This collection will cover diverse topics including (but not limited to; the list keeps growing): emotional and gender-based geographies of “rhythmic ceremonial rituals” (dance), geopolitical conceptions of the story (Libyan nationals on US soil), the evolution of the subdivision (Lyon Estates), the international consumption of the trilogy (Fox once got called “Marty McFly” by a pack of monks in Bhutan), and the course of urban planning surrounding the town’s iconic clock tower.

And, here’s your CFP: If you are a geographer who loves Back to the Future and would like to get involved either in writing or editing/reviewing, please drop us a line. We would love to hear from you. The ¬†provisional release date is (you guessed it) 2015, and we are excited to launch this proposal into the AAG meeting in Los Angeles and the CGS meeting in San Luis Obispo next month.

In the meantime, please follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and our website, where we’ll be posting more information as it becomes available. We’ll also be discussing this book today on The Casual Geographer at 3pm PT on KBeach or 88.1FM-HD3 if you’re in the Long Beach area. I’ll do my best to keep this site updated as well. I suppose being the lead editor entails some of that responsibility. We know that the publishing process takes a long time and hard work, but those challenges didn’t stop Dr. Emmett Brown from making his trauma-induced vision of the Flux Capacitor a reality, and it shouldn’t stop us, either. As the man always said,¬†“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”