If my current position as a writer on The Michigan Daily’s Arts section hasn’t already made it obvious, I love art. Whether it’s books, music, movies, TV shows or anything in between, chances are that I have made the media I consume a part of my personality at some point in my life.
But it might surprise you to learn that, despite belonging to the Digital Culture beat, I have a slight obsession with owning physical media. I have a DVD collection that I’ve been building since my preteen years. Whenever a book I want to read comes out, I have to buy my own copy (and I wouldn’t be caught dead with a Kindle — no offense to my Mom, or anyone else who owns one). I still get CDs at Christmas, and I’m slowly getting into vinyl. Do I technically still have a bunch of Disney movies on VHS? That, I will neither confirm nor deny.
I know, it’s contradictory. How can I be writing about things like streaming services and Artificial Intelligence art when I’m much more traditional in reality? I wish I had an answer for you that made sense, but I can tell you this: No matter how technologically advanced our world becomes, my love for physical media will never die.
Technology and media have changed a lot in the 22 years I’ve been alive. I spent my childhood mulling over which movie to rent at the Family Video down the street from my house. I remember when Netflix used to be a service that only sent you DVDs in the mail. One of the few times I was allowed to stay up past my bedtime was Sunday nights at 8 for the latest episode of “Once Upon A Time.” Going to the bookstore was (and still is) a beloved activity, and memories of family car trips are marked by the steady rotation of my parents’ CDs.
But now, things are different. My local Family Video went out of business when I was finishing up high school, and nowadays, my siblings and I argue over who gets to connect our phone to Bluetooth to play music in the car. There is an ever-increasing number of streaming services on the market, each one allowing you to watch or purchase titles with the click of a button. When I was younger, the closest thing to “streaming” was YouTube, and even that’s become a completely different beast. Cable TV is all but dead because these sites can all create and easily share high-quality, original content. You can build an extensive library without needing to buy CDs or rearrange your bookshelves. It’s hard not to see the appeal — you can have your favorite shows, movies, music and more at your fingertips anywhere you go. You can’t ignore the financial success either, as the streaming industry brings in billions of dollars annually. The idea of owning physical media, constantly needing to find space for it, seems to pale in comparison to the giant that is streaming. So why do I do it?
I don’t think I’m like this solely out of nostalgia, and I’m not a total analog elitist, either. My family pays for several streaming services that I use frequently, and I get weirdly excited when a DVD I’ve bought comes with a digital copy code. No, I think the reason I love owning physical media is just that: the sense of ownership I feel. The stories I hear, see or read … they become mine. In so many of my favorite forms of art, I find little bits of myself being represented. A film character who wants the same things out of life that I do. A literary protagonist whose internal monologue matches how I think mine sounds. A song that turns my deepest thoughts into beautifully crafted phrases, or reminds me of a memory with someone I love. It’s things like these that lead me to make my favorites into personality traits.
I’m a firm believer that you can learn a lot about a person from the music they listen to or the books they read. Art is a paradox — it is given to audiences of countless people and we bond with each other over our love for certain pieces, yet each individual who interacts with a story takes something different from it, something so unique. In my mind, streaming represents that sense of community, but a physical copy that belongs to just me feels understandably more personal. More special.
It might seem annoying that I’ve continued to cultivate such an extensive physical media collection in the age of streaming. My family would have a valid reason to think so, with the vast majority of that collection currently sitting in plastic bins that take up the already-limited space in our basement. But in the same way that my media repertoire grows, so does my understanding of myself, and that’s why I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon.
My future house will just have to have enough shelf space for my CDs and DVDs, my future partner and I will put on records while we dance in the kitchen and my future children will be more than welcome to borrow my books, so long as they take care of them. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it?
Daily Arts Writer Hannah Carapellotti can be reached at hmcarp@umich.edu.