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Intimacy Threats and Intersubjective Users Telephone Training Films, 1927-1962
Intimacy Threats and Intersubjective Users Telephone Training Films, 1927-1962
Intimacy Threats and Intersubjective Users Telephone Training Films, 1927-1962
considering these books, and placing them within the canon of the field, is a good start
if we hope to better understand how technological assumptions guide the production of
all knowledge; enable assessments of desirable bodies, people, and nations; and cultivate
particular manifestations of power.3
In the five years since that issue was published, few essays in American Quarterly
have explicitly addressed technology as their main subject.
After examining how this sound technology and its sonic experiences are
represented visually and aurally, I argue that the essence of telephony's sonic
experience - intimate intersubjectivity - is largely missing from these films'
educational depictions of telephony. Telephony offered new degrees of private,
person-to-person, immediate connection, yet the institutional discourse of
these disparate films works to foreclose such potential emotional circulation.
Intended to instruct on usage of telephony, they in many ways avoid or at least
fail to express the very nature of this communication system - a technology
about intimate, interpersonal connection through mediated sound. Across
these films, opportunities to convey or suggest the intimate intersubjectivity
at the heart of telephonic experience seem frequently missed. These depictions
contribute to constitutive discourses of telephone usership; they help define
who is a proper or sound telephone user and what ideal telephonic practices
are. Yet such discourses are also entangled with other flows of social meaning-
making and power relations, just like the technologies themselves. In mapping
the contours of good and bad users, telephone training films harness social
stereotypes pertaining to gender, age, and race, imbuing seemingly neutral
technological practices with hierarchical power relations of different social
categories. This suggests what might be the specific threat from intersubjectivity,
namely, empathy. Although these films do not explicitly instruct users to avoid
sharing emotions, they do reinforce values of emotional restraint by dodging
telephony's intimate intersubjectivity.6 In hearing the words and sounds of
others across social boundaries, the intimate sonic sharing of experience and
sentiment might reveal that those boundaries are not merely permeable but
perhaps even meaningless. Finally, I conclude with a postscript on methodologi-
cal concerns related to employing sound studies in technology scholarship.
emotional relations do not exist between people in some kind of equivalency or equilib-
rium. Emotions are utilized in the exerting and reaffirming of power differentials. But how
emotions circulate and subordinate as they are relayed throughout the social formation is
complex, constantly changing, and insufficiently understood.9
It is the circulation and relay of emotions from one person or social group to
another that the present essay addresses. However, I am concerned less with
specific acts of producing specific emotional states, or particular meanings
or identities made affectively, than with institutional responses to potential
emotional circulation, how people are instructed to properly use technologies
that offer new capabilities for intimate inter/subjectivity.
Intersubjectivity is a liminal space between subjectivity and objectivity, when
experiences and feelings are shared by more than one individual consciousness,
not merely in the sense of exchanged information but shared experiences that,
in turn, interactively construct social lives. Intimacy refers to physical and
emotional proximity or closeness, and, as suggested by the physical and emotive
connotations of "closeness," intimacy suggests impending, nascent, or potential
empathy. I employ the phrase "intimate intersubjectivity" here to reinforce the
meanings of each, to underscore that intimate closeness is not merely a matter
of physical proximity (even if replicated virtually in what media scholars refer
to as "presence"),10 nor is intersubjective sharing merely informational. I also
use the phrase to gesture toward its potential outcome or threat: empathy. Em-
pathy refers to a specific form of intersubjectivity, when the shared experiences
are explicitly emotional. Moreover, intimacy is not necessarily empathy, but
it is often a necessary precondition or first stage of it. True empathy involves
feeling what another feels, with the implication being you will understand
that person, help that person; to a degree, you will become each other as that
person's joys, pains, needs, and desires become yours. In The Cultural Politics
of Emotion, Sara Ahmed argues for the sociality of emotions, that feelings are
not merely something we have but are produced by capitalism's circulations
of objects and that emotions, in turn, are constitutive:
Emotions create the very effect of the surfaces and boundaries that allow us to distinguish
an inside and an outside in the first place. So emotions are not simply something "I" or
"we" have. Rather, it is through emotions, or how we respond to objects and others, that
surfaces and boundaries are made: the "I" and the "we" are shaped by, and even take the
shape of, contact with others.11
The mysteriousness . . . ofthat part of the machine and its belongings that lies beyond ones
own instrument and that of the person at the other end. . . . Between us two there is an airy
nowhere, inhabited by voices and nothing else - Helloland, I should call it.16
the call transfers you to the Other. In this regard, calling might be viewed as perturbing
the self's traditional subjection of Other to itself. This goes counter to mainstream Western
philosophy, which traditionally holds the Other to be secondary to the self, the Other of
the self, the symmetry of self-duplication. Telephonies imposes the recognition of a certain
irreducible precedence of the Other with respect to the Self.18
concerns and public welfare, and telephone training films suggest a tension
between selling sociability and resisting the intersubjective nature of sound.
This could be also attributed to cultural factors, such as class- and race-based
ideals and standards of emotional reserve, thus suggesting a radical potential
of telephony and related technologies (two-way radio, etc.).25 In this way, these
telephone training films may not explicitly discipline users to be emotionally
reserved, but they do replicate such values by avoiding the elephant in the
room of telephonic intimacy and intersubjectivity.
Telephone training films are often neglected artifacts within cultural histories
and studies of telephony.26 Cinema scholarship tends to focus on representations
of telephone iconography and narrative symbology.27 Cultural histories tend
to rely on artifacts such as print ads, instruction booklets, public demonstra-
tions, and popular culture representations, such as songs, sheet music, and
motion pictures.28 Yet local distribution of 16 mm industrial films was long
recognized by AT&T as an important medium for distributing information
about the telephone, and also a popular one, with screenings often included
as part of motion-picture theater programs.29 Moreover, this was inclusive of
broader efforts: AT&T's "educational" efforts included not only their innovative
deployment of corporate public relations in the media (as part of gaining, then
maintaining, public approval of their monopoly) but also ads and circulars on
proper telephone etiquette and usage instructions.30
As these films visually and aurally represent telephony, telephonic intimate
intersubjectivity seems less than fully realized because of certain distancing
techniques and missed opportunities: linguistic representation, separating
speakers, sonic icons and infrastructure images, avoiding or abstracting usage
sounds, and, in one case, depersonalization. After describing this, I discuss
exceptions that come close to representing intimate intersubjectivity, and how
these suggest the films' use of social stereotypes in their constitution of users.
In Now Youre Talking, a silent short from 1927, the legendary animator Max
Fleischer and his brother Dave Fleischer use one of the most common tech-
niques of representing telephony: combining images of speakers with words.
Written language is one of the earliest visual representations of sound, and here
intertitles convey the spoken dialogue that could not be heard. The narrative
features a phone sickened and sent to the hospital via ambulance because of
an inappropriate user mishandling the device. We see a frustrated business-
man speaking into his phone, and corresponding intertitles read: "What? You
can't hear me?" then "I can't hear you either! Why don't you talk into your
telephone?" Note the multiple degrees of distancing from the experience: as a
silent film, we cannot directly hear what the man is hearing - silence, static,
or the distorted voice of the user on the other end. The speaker must verbalize
his experience, introducing a degree of abstracted distancing, which is then
increased when his verbalizations are further abstracted into the symbols and
words of linguistic representation. We do not really know what he hears, but
have to surmise it from what he says, and even that is incomplete, for clearly
the man speaks more words than we see in the title cards.31 The mimetic
gap between experience and representation is wide, even in a film explicitly
created to teach about that experience to new users. Now You re Talking also
makes use of a visual representation of sound that predates abstract language:
onomatopoeia. Animations depict a phone emitting "RING," "BRRNG-G,"
and "BANG" when hung up too firmly, a lion's "G-R-R-R," fingers' "SNAP!"
and a sick phone's sneeze, "AH-CHOO!" However, note what is missing:
conversation or intersubjectivity. Efforts are made to convey the sounds of the
technological device, but not the simultaneous users.
Across these films, the lack of effectively representing telephonic intersub-
jectivity is more notable in contrast to the sophisticated and complex ways
the films do suggest intersubjectivity in forms other than telephonic conver-
sation. Now Youre Talking and the other silent film I discuss both combine
live-action and animated sequences, bridging two representational worlds,
and not merely through crosscutting. Now Youre Talkinghzs complex shots,
such as an animated ambulance within a live-action shot of a man's forehead,
simultaneously combining photographic, illustrative, and symbolic represen-
tational systems. Moreover, subjectivity is bestowed on humans ¿«¿/machines:
we see the telephone vary from being a neutral vessel conveying speakers and
operators to a sentient creature with its own subjectivity and voice, even to
the point of writing a diary.
A second film from 1927, How to Use the Dial Phoney is straightforward
demonstration lacking a fanciful plot. It also represents telephony through
images of speakers combined with words, but distances even further by never
providing title cards for what the users actually say. We see the female pro-
tagonist speaking into her phone, and we see telephone operators, but we are
never shown her words or even the operators' crucial "Number, please." Title
cards narrate only her actions, which viewers are meant to follow: "Listen for
the dial tone." While not symbolically visualizing speech, the film does attempt
linguistic description of other sonic aspects of user experience: "The dial tone is
a steady humming sound indicating that the line is ready for you to dial"; "The
busy signal is a rapid buzz buzz buzz telling you that the called line is busy."
The film also animates onomatopoeic strings of "MMMMMMM"s coming
out of a phone earpiece in a wavy line to indicate humming. Here not merely
the symbols but the visual aesthetics of the words attempt to represent sound
through movement, graphic elements, and typography: a similar series of the
word "BUZZ" come out of an earpiece, pause in the right corner of the frame,
and quiver, drawn with squiggly lines. An intertitle reads, "The ringing signal
is an intermittent burring sound telling you the bell of the called telephone is
ringing," and this "burring" sound is conveyed through animation, this time
in full close-up, with a "B^R" jumping out of the phone in a clean, san serif
font (unlike title cards), landing large on the right side of screen, where the
type quivers and becomes squiggly, then stretches tall, visually suggesting a
modulating tone with an increasing volume or pitch. However, as with Now
Youre Talking, intersubjectivity is missing. These efforts represent the device,
not the users' conversation. Moreover, only a limited representation of one side
of a conversation is presented, but the exchange is not conveyed - the essence
of telephony.
Again, nontelephonic intersubjectivity is, by contrast, on ample display: How
to Use the Dial Phone does not mix animation and live-action within a single
shot, as does Now Youre Talking, but attempts something similar by using a
large white cutout of a pointing hand that enters into two live-action sequences,
combining photographic and illustrative modes simultaneously through analog,
in-camera techniques. Intersubjectivity is also conveyed through sequences in
which the viewer changes points of view. The viewer shifts from omnisciently
watching a woman use the telephone to taking her place, as sequences alternate
between full-frontal shots of the dialing woman, close-ups from her viewpoint
of her fingers dialing, and interri ties that directly address the audience-as-her:
"You have now dialed 3-6623 (Note: The dash (-) is not dialed.)." If we are
being positioned as the user, why can we not hear, or know more about, what
the user hears?
Dial Comes to Town is a sound film from the late 1 940s instructing rural users
on the new dial telephone system. It tells the story of a multigenerational family
as their community experiences the change from operator-assisted calls to dial
tones and direct calling. It is not only sound but also a longer, twenty-minute
film. Yet, throughout its telephonic conversations, we hear only the user, who
is shown visually. It exhibits the same convention of separating speakers seen
in the silent films, even though cinematic split-screen effects had been known
for over a decade, and, indeed, one of their earliest uses had been to show tele-
phone conversation in Lois Webers 1913 film Suspense. In the training films
I examined, however, conversations are presented almost exclusively through
crosscutting, not split-screens or the even the less-complicated convention of
hearing the user on the other end of the call in a distorted voice.
Another technique for representing sound in all of these films was the
use of sonic icons. Rather than attempt to replicate, convey, or suggest the
phenomenological experience of hearing, visual stand-ins are used, includ-
ing, predictably, close-ups of telephones. Dial Comes to Town features a more
spectacular version of this effect through a large demonstration prop: a giant,
blackboard-sized rotary dial used at a town meeting.
In Dial Comes to Town, and also in the Operator Toll Dialing shorts and
Century 21 Calling, usage sounds are avoided through omission or abstraction.
In all of these sound films, we do hear spoken dialogue, clicks, beeps, and oc-
casionally conversational voices. However, what is again surprising is how much
sound is missing from these sound narratives about using and understanding
a sound technology. To a large degree, they do not attempt to replicate the
user experience. Usage sounds are not experienced but externalized, described,
abstracted, or visualized. Dial Comes to Town features no intersubjective sounds
of users. We never hear anything that is not shown. We hear only when the
camera transports us there, despite telephony being a technology that obviates
the need for "going there." When there are intersubjective usage sounds of the
technology itself, such as rings and buzzes, they are externalized. Moreover, Dial
Comes to Town is specifically about a significant change in auditory experience:
the transition from operator-assisted to dial calling, a change that involved a
loss in degree of human mediation and increased immediate intersubjectivity
between callers: you connected to one another directly. Yet such a significant
sonic change is often conveyed through verbal abstractions rather than simply
letting the viewer hear the change itself: the phone company representative
Mr. Johnson tells the crowd, "Instead of hearing the familiar 'Number please,'
you will hear the dial tone, which says the same thing, electrically." When
technophobic Grandpa finally tries dialing when no one's looking, he listens,
then says aloud, "Yes, that's the right noise." He dials, then says to his friend,
"Real nice and clear, too, isn't it?" In both of these scenes, usage sounds are not
experienced but described, abstracted, and visualized. This slavish adherence
to realism - this is how a town hall would really happen; this is what it would
really be like to observe someone using the phone - could be an aesthetic
choice, but why replicate a live demonstration when the capabilities of cinema
allow one to better replicate the actual user experience? Moreover, strict realism
does not seem to be a necessary convention of telephone training films, from
the talking telephone that catches a cold in Now You re Talking to Century 21
Callings theme-song proclamation, "You can telephone a star!"
The Operator Toll Dialing films are three 1949 sound shorts instructing
telephone switchboard operators: Teamwork, Cord Signals, and Dialing, Speak-
ers are separated in these films again: external users are never shown and rarely
heard. Even when teaching the internal users their jobs, of which conversations
with external users were a crucial part, the conversational experience is mostly
absent. Sonic icons are employed here, and in several other films, including
images of sonic infrastructure, such as switchboards, wires, relays, building
exteriors, and telephony equipment. Most of these are not illustrative - that
is, they do not accompany matching sounds of telephone conversations. For
example, in Teamwork, a narrator informs us that an operator must collect
overtime charges on a coin telephone call that has exceeded its initial deposit.
We see an indicator light flash on the switchboard, but do not hear any of
the significant and sensitive conversational moment when the operator must
announce that the caller has gone overtime. We only see a close-up of the
operator in a headset and hear her say, "One moment please." Then, for seven
lengthy and unusual seconds of silence, we watch her fill out a paper ticket
and operate her switchboard from an overhead shot, too distant to effectively
communicate the detailed procedures of her operating the machinery. Thus,
much like linguistic representation, sonic iconography performs a distancing
act, representing an aural, intimate, intersubjective experience through images
of solid, singular, often inorganic objects. Usage sounds are also avoided: these
shorts generally feature no intersubjective sounds of end users or machines.
We do not even hear clicks or busy signals; we merely see silent, flashing lights.
Century 21 Calling, г. 1962 sound film on a future telephony exhibit at the
Seattle Worlds Fair, also separates its speakers, mainly through crosscutting.
Also similar to the Operator Toll Dialing shorts, auditory signals are converted
to flashing lights, with buzzes and rings shown instead as blinks. This would
have made more sense in the silents, but these are all sound films. Remember,
too, that these are not merely informational but instructional: communicat-
ing the idea of a sound signal through a visual flash is one thing, but when
training people to listen for and respond to sound signals, why not simply
play the sounds? Why the additional level of mediation? While there are a
number of possible explanations for this and other incidents of failing to con-
vey aural intersubjectivity, my point is the larger pattern in which repeatedly,
in multiple ways, across varying types of films and years of production, the
nature of telephony is not merely presented but taught in a manner that is less
direct than it could be. As for avoiding usage sounds, Century 21 Calling does
convey some, but largely through a realism similar to Dial Comes to Town by
mostly, but not exclusively, conveying sounds only when they are ambient, as
if heard by a bystander. As viewers, we generally do not hear what characters
hear when putting receivers to their ears. For example, we hear the external
screech of Bell Boy, an early pager, but not the signal the girl placing the call
hears to let her know her page has gone through, although she clearly reacts
to hearing something. During a demonstration of automatic dialing, we hear
the clicking of punch cards, but not what the kids hear as they take turns lis-
tening to the receiver, in a significant omission of a key auditory part of user
experience. Nor do we hear the actual tones in pushbutton dialing, only clicks
of buttons and rotary dials, nor the sounds of a call going through when the
girl beats the boy in a speed-dialing contest. The sounds of the film are those
of an observer, not the actual user. Yet even ambient sounds are incomplete:
the vocal interactions between the boy and the girl are rarely heard; her quip-
ping, "I beat ya!" is one of few moments of their dialogue overheard, another
missed opportunity for intersubjectivity in the form of conversation. Indeed,
sometimes visible dialogue between the girl and boy is missing, even though
we hear a person near them speaking.
A final technique of distancing and avoiding intersubjectivity appears in
Century 21 Calling, the only film to suggest future innovations. The teleology
of telephony is shown to be depersonalized, not between people at all, and even
nonaural. It is predicted that the telephone will be used to remotely control
the kitchen oven, home air conditioning, and water the lawn. Significantly, the
future of an audio technology - as depicted in conjunction with a worlds fair,
an event all about technological progress narratives - is shown to transcend
sound and intimate, intersubjective communication.
There are moments in most of these films that come close to representing
intimate intersubjectivity, and I suggest these function as limit cases identify-
ing usage boundaries. Significantly, these moments tend to involve different
social hierarchies.
In Now You re Talking, three moments verge on intersubjectivity, with the
telephone bringing together persons of different genders, races, and social
classes, but the film retreats into distancing techniques. The potential for
connection, intimate intersubjectivity, and empathy is sounded, then avoided.
First, when the animated version of the protagonist answers the phone, we
see a speech bubble rise from his earpiece containing an unseen operators
one time we do hear usage sounds of clicks from dialing and the switch hook
is when Ms. White is not really calling another person but merely demon-
strating onstage at the town meeting. She listens to a handset, and then flips
a separate switch on the giant demonstration dial mockup, which broadcasts
the dial tone on a loudspeaker, allowing the audience to hear. To underscore,
a close-up shows her hold her handset out to the audience, a gesture akin to
todays reality-TV convention of putting phones on speaker to broadcast a
conversation. Ms. White demonstrates a ring tone and busy signal similarly.
In the Operator Toll Dialing shorts, other than the narrators voice, almost
all of the sounds are voices of operators, and these generally are in conversa-
tion not with external users but with each other, demonstrating teamwork
by asking each other for favors and happily replying "Surely!" many times.
While working as a team is clearly perceived as an important aspect of the job,
listening to customers is surely even more important. Yet there is hardly any
sonic representation ofthat, suggesting an intersubjective threat between the
business organization and the consumer, between the operator-as-mediator
and the technology end user.
Century 21 Calling has two exceptions. In a film-within-the-film segment
illustrating call forwarding, we see a woman answer the phone and hear a
distorted male voice on the other end ask for Diane, but then the rest of the
sequence uses crosscutting for their conversation. Again, a gender difference
is bridged, and, significantly, intimacy is underscored by the romantic content
of the call: the couple is not married, and her expressions of enthusiasm sug-
gest he is a suitor. In a film-within-the-film illustrating call waiting, we see a
female caller whose call is interrupted, and hear the same alert beep that she
hears announcing another incoming call. However, this is again the sound of
the technology, not the other person, and, indeed, we do not hear the voices of
either person she talks to on either call. One is a female friend; the interrupting
caller is her husband, bringing a male friend to dinner, whom she instructs her
husband to reprimand for not bringing his wife. Again, gender differences and
heterosexual coupling suggest an intimacy the film avoids. These exceptions
demonstrate the technological capability and willingness to create audio ef-
fects that illustrate what callers hear, and visual techniques, such as the matte
effects of the films-within-the-film (much like the mixed illustration and live
action in the silents), evidence a visual capability for showing intersubjectiv-
ity through effects such as split-screen. The film could better demonstrate
telephonic experience, but does not.
authority enter the film, penetrating its realism with symbolic, communicative
artifice. Moreover, the viewer of the film is positioned as a good user by being
able to read this: literate in the English language and viewing conventions
of early silent cinema, possessing symbolic competency in knowing what to
make of a strange white drawing of a hand poking into the frame, and able to
coherently integrate all three. Such positioning of the viewer as a good user
pathologizes the female object of the film all the more through contrast and
differentiation as a bad user.
In sum, if these films are understood as contributing to discourses on
appropriate usership, a pathologized aspect of usership is clearly intimate
intersubjectivity. And, as certain examples suggest, this is perhaps threatening
in terms of intersubjective experiences between socially differentiated groups.
While these films can be understood as texts in discourses shaping appropri-
ate technological users and usership, by harnessing racial, gender, and ethnic
stereotypes, they also reinforce and constitute those categories more broadly.
Thus studying historical representations of appropriate technological use and
usership informs study of broader historical practices of constituting other
social categories and subjects. Furthermore, the intimate intersubjectivity of
telephony and its potential social threats offer a key stage in the genealogy of
contemporary technological intimacy, which scholars such as Dan Arav and
David Gurevitz argue has transformed into new forms intertwined in pleasur-
able and willing surveillance.38
Methodological Postscript
In this essay I have employed theories from sound studies as well as a sound
studies method of elevating in analysis sounds, sonic practices, and their
representations, discourses, and omissions. In doing so, several issues of meth-
odological concern are suggested for American studies scholars of technology.
One is the continued ephemerality of sound. While many recordings do
exist, sound studies calls attention to ambient sound as well, which is often lost.
The silent films discussed here were never truly lacking sound: there were noises
of crowds and projection systems, audience responses and interaction, and some
form of live music or sound effects or both accompanied many silent films. In
the case of my two films, however, and silent instructional films in general, I
do not have data on the aural aspects of their original context. Further work
on ephemeral films such as these could look for clues to context and reception
perhaps in diaries of viewers or corporate records regarding their screenings.
Another issue is the need for not only studying the histories of sound tech-
nologies but also unearthing the actual sounds ^/technologies. For example,
some of the telephone sounds Ms. White demonstrates in Dial Comes to Town
are surprisingly unpleasant. The ringing bell is familiar, but the dial tone, busy
signal, and ring signal are loud, grating mechanical sounds closer to a buzzer
than the smoother electric sounds I recall from at least the 1970s onward.
Perhaps this is the "brrng-g" sound referred to in How to Use the Dial Phone.
Perhaps earlier phones sounded like this, or perhaps the sounds are exaggerated
here for effectiveness in demonstration. However, this uncertainty attests to
the lack of examination of sound in histories of technological user experience,
and areas for further research.
Finally, I suggest that the resistance or at best ineptness in conveying tel-
ephonic experience in these films may also suggest evidence of what might
have been truly new about the telephone. In other words, it can be inferred
that this degree of intersubjectivity was something truly new - a claim media
scholars today debate and make with increasing judiciousness.39 This suggests
a method for media scholars and historians to determine what was actually
new about a medium - versus "always already new," as Lisa Gitelman titled
her book.40 Looking for what aspects of a mediums experience seem resistant
to representation, or are represented in seemingly awkward, indirect, or inept
ways, could be a methodological tool: a gap in confident representational
practices may be a finger pointing to the new.
Notes
1. Carolyn de la Peña, "'Slow and Low Progress,' or Why American Studies Should Do Technology,"
American Quarterly 58.3 (September 2006): 915.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid., 939.
4. Dial Comes to Town (Loucks and Norling, AT&T/Bell, Western Electric Recording, late 1940s); Now
You're Talking, directed by Dave Fleischer, scenario by Max Fleischer (Inkwell Studios, 1927); How
to Use the Dial Phone (AT&T/PT&T Bell System, 1927); Century 21 Calling, directed by Robert
Larsen (AT&T, Western Electric Recording, Jerry Fairbanks Productions, 1962); Operator Toll Dialing
shorts: Teamwork, Dialing, Cord Signals (AT&T/Bell, Western Electric Recording, 1949). For more
on instructional, ephemeral, orphan, or sponsored cinema, see Henry Habley, "Industrial-Sponsored
Films: Telephone Film Distribution," in Ideas on Film: A Handbook for the 16mm Film User, ed. С.
Starr (New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1951), 123-25; Vinzenz Hediger and Patrick Vonderau, Films
That Work: Industrial Film and the Productivity of Media (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press,
2009); Devin Orgeron, "Conference Report: Orphans Take Manhattan: The 6th Biannual Orphan
Film Symposium, March 26-29, 2008, New York City," Cinema Journal AS. 2 (Winter 2009): 1 14-18;
Rick Prelinger, The Field Guide to Sponsored Films (San Francisco: National Film Preservation Founda-
tion, 2006); Sean Savage, The Eye Beholds: Silent Era Industrial Film and the Bureau of Commercial
Economics (muster s thesis, Tisch School of the Arts, New York University, 2006); Science, Industry, and
Education: Program of the Orphan Film Symposium 5, March 22-25 (Columbia: Film Studies Program,
College of Arts and Sciences, University of South Carolina, 2006).