Starbucks Aesthetics

In today's New York Times, there's an intriguing story on "The Starbucks Aesthetics" by Susan Dominus. The story partly dissects the Starbucks cultural experience, how the company has its own XM station, with forays into producing Indie films, books, and music cds.

Of course, it's about a canned "hip" experience for those of us NPR listeners (which I am). Recently Starbucks opened up a coffeeshop in downtown Fort Myers, which is in desperate need of active and sustaining businesses. It's located in the Kress building, a part of the redevelopment of some wonderful buildings downtown (for a number of years, Gerri and I lived in downtown Fort Myers, and Gerri continues to write of downtown Fort Myers in her history column in a tabloid weekly). So, in many respects, the presence of this Starbucks franchise is a very good thing.

And I do occasionally frequent that Starbucks, and yes, I like much of the canned hipness: the soft-toned mix of alternative rock and cool jazz and 40s standards, the terra cotta colored and 50's moderne themes, the employee-friendly and environmental-friendly ethics, and the very good coffee.

Of course, there's an absolute flatness to the whole experience, a most genial comfort. And this is evident in the corporation's first foray into book publishing, with Mitch Albom as the brand du jour. Okay, I haven't read For One More Day, but I suspect it's as far reaching of a venture as a re-issue of a Frank Sinatra album, or of a spoken word cd by Meryl Streep of The Veleveteen Rabbit. Yes, it's a good thing, but it's so friendly, so reassuring, and so empty.

Dominus includes a very telling statement by Nikkole Denson, who is the chain's director of business management, as she describes Starbucks' involvement in the production of Akeelah and the Bee:
“Starbucks is all about community and inspiration, and everything in that movie seemed aligned with that — it has that human connection,” Ms. Denson said. “It doesn’t have to be a family film, but it does have to be socially relevant.” As for the books she’s selecting — they won’t all be by name brands like Mr. Albom — she says she wants books that provide “almost an education without being preachy.” Yes, they should be inspiring, but also, she hopes, challenging: “not racy or dark, but thought-provoking.”
Now what's interesting here is the emphasis on producing and supporting works that are wholesome, affirming nuggets. Seeing that a Starbucks brand (whose "core customer" is a 42-year-old professional earning $90,000 per year) could have the cultural impact of Oprah Winfrey, at least among the NPR crowd, I find this news yet another dreary reminder that what Americans, even the ones I like a lot, want is the least bothersome of communities, the most convenient of inspirations.

And yes, I do worry about my coffee and its social relevance, whether it supports fair-trade, is organic, shade-grown. And yes, I also work at an institution (the American public university) that seeks to provide "almost an education," profferring ideas that are almost challenging, but certainly "not racy or dark, but thought provoking." What I hope for, then, is the proliferation of that wild coffee, those undrinkable kinds, that take root, flourish in the most acid of soils, the darkest and least accessible of forests. I like to think of my remains being spread in that kind of dirt, giving nourishment to those kinds of unbrandable and impolite varieties.

Comments

Anne Camille said…
I didn't make it past the fold on the NYT article this morning although the oxymoron 'Starbucks Aesthetics' did catch my eye as I pulled out the sections of the paper I wanted to read. The faux-Renoir graphic so captured the sterile, banal atmosphere that is Starbucks that I didn't need to read further. It's just so ersatz, I have to tune out most of it when I do go there. And I always try to balance it out refusing to use any of those silly names for the size of the drinks. It's a Large, dammit. Not a Venti!

...the proliferation of that wild coffee, those undrinkable kinds, that take root, flourish in the most acid of soils, the darkest and least accessible of forests...those kinds of unbrandable and impolite varieties. Yes, that's the kind of coffee -- and art-- I want!
Anonymous said…
I agree 100 percent. Though I have to admit I was in a Starbucks yesterday enjoying a cup of hot chocolate.

Also, I wanted to mention that I was reading an article on Edna St. Vincent Millay and saw you quoted in the article! What a nice surprise. Had to drop you a note just to let you know.
Catherine said…
I love the last paragraph, too. However, as long as society contains about 5% of people who like the wild undrinkable kinds (of coffee and art), then this is enough to provide the salt, or the leaven, to use biblical metaphors.
Starbucks has reached New Zealand, but I've never been there. There are so many other coffee shops and besides, coffee drunk at home is much cheaper.
I doubt their core customer in New Zealand earns $90,000 a year. Not even in New Zealand dollars which are worth about two thirds of what US dollars are worth. Their customer base would be really tiny, we just don't earn that much money here.
swissmiss said…
I read the back cover of the Albom book when I was at a Starbuck's in the States recently (in Ketchum, Idaho, actually) - basically an adult son gets One More Day with his long dead mother. Just the sort of thing I hate - like you said, safe and genial. The whole point of life is that we *don't* get one more day and the entire enterprise of life is figuring out how to live in the face of that.

And yet - I confess it. I'm a Starbucks groupie.
Michelle said…
Very interesting post. I found this part the most compelling: "Now what's interesting here is the emphasis on producing and supporting works that are wholesome, affirming nuggets. Seeing that a Starbucks brand (whose "core customer" is a 42-year-old professional earning $90,000 per year) could have the cultural impact of Oprah Winfrey, at least among the NPR crowd, I find this news yet another dreary reminder that what Americans, even the ones I like a lot, want is the least bothersome of communities, the most convenient of inspirations."

As an NPR listener myself and a person who does not make $90,000 but can say that quite a few of the people I know do. I see the trend over and over again of people choosing not just the least bothersome and most convenient choice but also the most homogenized choice-not that there's much of a distinction there. In Portland where I live there are a million coffee shops to choose from. I find myself despising the apathy of people who can't be bothered to explore something different.
Unknown said…
This brings to mind something I've been mulling over for a while now: It seems like more than ever our culture is determined to place each member within a group which can thereafter be used as shorthand for their entire being. Like the "NPR Crowd": Sure, I listen to NPR, drink Starbucks, and eat organic produce... But I don't idealize the poor or believe in strict gun control, I don't say "grande" or "venti" when ordering at Starbucks, and I'm not a vegan. And I think a lot of "NPR crowd"-movies (think Monster's Ball, Little Miss Sunshine, Sideways, etc.) are pretentious and boring -- quirkiness is just a gimmick in those movies, window dressing to justify their implicit claim to more substance than their equivalent mainstream movies. So to characterize me as part of the NPR crowd would not only be unfair to me, but inaccurate. And yet, I'm characterized that way all the time -- one coworker gives me grief on a daily basis for eating (mostly) vegetables that I cooked at home while he eats his 1800-calorie meal from Arby's and listens to Bob & Tom!

Well, I'm rambling now, but anyway, does anyone else feel this way? Like, you enjoy or believe certain things that a certain crowd also happens to enjoy or believe, yet you don't consider yourself part of that crowd and don't want to? This has happened to me with groups of friends, the strength of whose clique depended on all-or-nothing conformity (I was kicked off the island, so to speak, by one group of "friends"), and more broadly, with social groups (the NPR crowd). I don't like having to be part of any group simply because the group demands my conformity. Am I alone here? Do the benefits of belonging outweigh the costs of conformity for most people?