We still don’t know how many people watched Sunday’s World Cup final, but the numbers from the last go-round provide a clue. In 2010, FIFA claimed that 900 million people watched at least one minute of that game.
Nearly 12 percent of the world’s population, in other words, briefly focused on a bunch of dudes kicking a ball and running around. It’s a staggering collective act of attention. For those 90 minutes, people saw the same sights, experienced the same emotions. Their personal senses of time became the time of the game.
What does that look like?
The novelist Teju Cole and the information designer Jer Thorp wanted to make some sense of it. With the help of artist and developer Mario Klingemann, they have created The Time of the Game, “a synchronized global view of the World Cup.” The page aggregates over 2,000 different photos of people’s TVs showing the World Cup.
The photos were submitted by Cole’s more than 160,000 followers. Last week, during the first semifinal, Cole asked his followers to submit photos of their TV showing the Cup. He asked them to provide a caption: where they were watching the game, and what minute it was.
We live in different time zones, out of sync but aware of each other. Then the game begins and we enter the same time: the time of the game.— Teju Cole (@tejucole) July 8, 2014
His followers obliged. Hundreds of pictures were posted to the social network, each with a hashtag marking them as part of the public event, #thetimeofthegame. So for the final, said Cole, he wanted to try something a little bigger. He recruited Thorp, the founder of the Office for Creative Research and a faculty member of New York University, to help construct the communal photographs into something more substantial.
This is what results: A fast-moving, chronological video collage of the photographs, each individual image onion-skin-like transparent, with the glowing, green TV at the perpetual center of the shot.
Cole had already been very active in World Cup Twitter conversations. It makes sense: Cole’s not only a clear football fan, but an advocate of cosmopolitanism and a more peaceful internationalism. His work often focuses on people with a complex sense of their own nationalism. His first novel, Open City, tells of a young, sophisticated half-Nigerian, half-German doctor, walking around New York City and Brussels.
And speaking on Monday from Switzerland, Cole approved the many loyalties the World Cup requires of its viewers.
“The World Cup becomes this opportunity for an alternative internationalism. A lot of countries, when we hear about them, it’s terror, it’s war, poverty.”
With the Cup, “you actually have to sit there and watch men from Ghana for 90 minutes.”
But this project goes far beyond that, and Cole said it has many antecedents. In the spring of this year, he asked his Twitter followers to submit pictures of blooming flowers in their area. He dubbed them his “International Florrespondents.”
“I had done a couple of crowdsourcing experiments before that were not informational, but artistic,” said Cole.
Cole has also used Twitter to collect diverse images. Using Twitter’s collections, a feature which allows tweets to be strung together, Cole tweeted images of art about terrorism and the American War on Terror in April, after the first paintings of George W. Bush were released. The next month, he used the same feature to create TV Guide, a collection of images showing the depiction of television in art and photography.
And the images in Time of the Game, of course, also center on a TV.
Images with a TV, Cole told me, are “formally satisfying because it’s a frame within a frame. That is the real power of it. A frame within a frame is formally interesting.
“And people would also include the TV stand, which may also be a frame. Often they’ll be a window, often there is a doorway, or a picture hanging on the wall. A proliferation of frames.”
And the photos, Cole said, allow for something beyond that visual interest.
“It becomes an insight into other people’s lives in a weird sort of way. I liked all the photos, even the bad ones. There were a lot of photos with people’s feet in them. So many of them were completely unguarded insights into the lives of others, and all these strange formal elements started to coalesce around the images.”
The project, in other words, helps create a kind of common space from distributed technology of expression. Cole noted how many of the TVs in images weren’t TVs at all, but laptops or tablet screens. And Time of the Game, too, he said, was partly inspired by the recent ubiquity of the camera. He could assume all his Twitter followers, regardless of location, had a camera attached to the Internet.
Talking to Cole, I thought of the designer Craig Mod’s declaration that networked lenses are supplanting cameras. I thought also of a provocation by editors at our sister publication, Quartz: “that media are best understood as competition for attention on screens connected to the internet. Phones, tablets, laptops, monitors, television sets—it's all just glass.”