Aesthetic Labour and

“Let the Music Take Your Mind”: Aesthetic Labour and ‘Working Out’ to Music

Authors: Janet Sayers and Trish Bradbury

Paper presented to the Work, Employment and Society Conference Manchester, United Kingdom, 1- 3 September 2004 Emotional and Aesthetic Labour Stream

Contact details: Dr. Janet Sayers (presenting author) Dr. Trish Bradbury Senior Lecturers Department of Management and International Business Massey University (Albany Campus) Private Bag 102 904 North Shore Mail Centre Auckland New Zealand Email: [email protected] Phone: 64 9 414 0800 ext. 9215 Fax: 64 9 441 8109

“Let the Music Take Your Mind” 1: Aesthetic Labour and ‘Working Out’ to Music Authors: Janet Sayers and Trish Bradbury

Pools of order are illusionary, but even such illusions are the exception. They do not last long. They are pretty limited. And they are the product, the outcome, or the effect, of a lot of work – work that may occasionally be more or less successfully hidden behind the appearance of ordered simplicity. (Law, 1994, p.5)

Introduction Imagine for a moment a fitness studio. You are looking through a window and observing a Step aerobics session. You would probably notice that the instructors are fit-looking, slim, tanned and wearing clothes that show-off their bodies. They are attractive, frenetically exercising, exhorting the class participants to move, and seem to be enjoying themselves. The audience is rather more motley — of many ages from young women to men and women in their 60s. They are wearing anything from the latest in sports-wear to a scruffy T-shirt and long pants. You hear pounding music, Patti La Belle singing the gospel standard ‘Ready for a Miracle’. The two women on the stage are facing an ‘audience’ of 30 people, mainly women, but a sprinkling of men. The women on the stage are working really hard and one is yelling “Get up! Get down! Rise up! Look at me!”. She is never silent, and as she demonstrates the moves, always having to think slightly ahead of her audience (and doing everything, like Ginger Rodgers to Fred Astair, backwards), gives previews of changes in moves, demonstrating the ideal movements. The pace of the movements is fast and in time to the music, and the class and instructor are all working out in time and synchronicity with each other. The noise from feet pounding on the floor and on the step, in time, is rhythmic and hypnotic. From time to time the instructor calls out to the class asking them to tell her they are OK. “Have you got there yet?” “Is it a miracle?!!” The class participants are arranged in formation facing the stage, evenly spread out with a step box under their legs as they watch the instructor intently, looking for variations and

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changes in the movements they are to do as the track progresses. At the peak of the track the class participants and the instructor are waving their hands in the air mimicking the ecstatic body movements of revelation at the height of a Pentecostal revivalist meeting. At several points during the track a few class participants yell back to the instructor, whooping to show their enjoyment of the track. If you were to watch, through the same window the next day, you might see many of the same women — instructors and class participants — participating in the same ritual. But this time, they are dancing/exercising to The Bee Gee’s ‘You Should be Dancing’. This time at the height of the track, they mimic the classic disco dance sequence from the movie ‘Saturday Night Fever’, and they are all pretending to be John Travolta. It must all seem rather weird to an outside observer. This paper was originally conceived as being about ‘the aesthetic labour of fitness workers’ and intended to be based on work on aesthetic labour and recently published in several journals, and represented in books on customer service work (Nickson, Warhurst, Witz, & Cullen, 2001; Sturdy, Grugulis, & Willmott, 2001). Aesthetic work has so far been mainly associated with the work of appearances — with the way people work, with what they wear and the way they talk (their accents for example). It would seem that the work of fitness instructors clearly has a large

aesthetic

component – how they appear is clearly an important part of what they do. But this paper soon evolved into being about more than just appearances, because a close look at the aesthetic component of fitness work demands that the work of the body is understood in relation to what is displayed by the instructor. The body is moving in time to music. The body is displayed on a stage, and the aesthetic mode of seeing and displaying how the instructor appears is ‘trained’ by other modes of viewing such as television (the preview and the replay), cinema (film watching), popular culture (karaoke, music performance – the rock and roll concert), and even the photograph. The aesthetic display is about appearances, but those appearances are set within a larger symbolic aesthetic of music, of dance (Thomas, 2003), of language, of branding, and of modes of seeing.

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Consequently this paper came to be about aesthetic labour in a broader sense, and a consideration of the aesthetic material — the symbolic environment — that is used by the fitness instructor as they create their aesthetic labour for consumption by participants. In order to unpack this more complex idea of aesthetic labour, we focus in this paper on the role of music in what fitness instructors do, because it appears that the music is the most obvious aesthetic material used in this interaction service work. It is the music that provides the impetus for the movements of the body. And it is popular culture that provides the ‘display case’ for the ‘modes of seeing’. For example consider the following incident from a Step session. A Step instructor introduces a specific ‘step recovery’ (or ‘active rest’ track ) which is Tom Jones’ rendition of ‘Situation’, by calling out to the class participants (who have mostly drifted off to get a drink of water or to wipe themselves down with a towel) by calling out “Tom Jones is waiting in the wings!” The labour of the fitness worker is in her readiness to begin the track, and she demonstrates through her technical expertise, fitness (which is displayed in her body) and voice (her eagerness), her aesthetic labour. But the instructor is also using the symbolic material of the music to enhance her aesthetic display. So, this incident neatly summarizes the issues that need to be dealt with in attempting to theorize this aesthetic labour. The music, the lyrics of the music, and shared knowledge of the artist, are used by the instructor to heighten participant anticipation and attention to the display — music is used by the instructors (and participants) as an ‘aesthetic prosthetic’ (De Nora, 2000). So, we concur that music is used as an ‘aesthetic prosthetic’ in fitness studios, as De Nora argues. But, how then does this use of music help us to understand/theorise the aesthetic and emotional labour of fitness workers?

In the fitness class above,

everyone – instructors and participants — are working on a type of body-building activity — “an ongoing activity of enhancing bodily aesthetics” (Monaghan, 1999, p.267), where they attempt to stabilize their self-identity through attention to the body (Sweetman, 1999) and changing its ‘plastic’ form (Thompson & Hirschman, 1999). The idea of aesthetics is then the main focus of this paper, and the use of empirical material based on the use of music by fitness workers, to elucidate some of the subtleties of what it means to be creating aesthetic labour, and how that aesthetic labour is framed, communicated, and received in interactive service work.

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The focus of the paper is on fitness classes that use music as the main technology through which the exercise programme is facilitated. In exploring this use of music to facilitate the work that occurs, this paper focuses on the use of music in the contexts of a profit-oriented service delivery system. Using material from a variety of sources — interviews, participant observation, a general survey on the importance of appearances in the New Zealand fitness industry, secondary organisational material, and a content analysis of the lyrics used in fitness workouts — this paper focuses on the use of music at work as an aesthetic (and emotional) prosthetic by instructors (and participants, who labour in front of the stage).

Theoretical context Aesthetic exploration in organizational research is split between two avenues: either an exploration of daily human subjective experience, or alternatively on the nature of art and human responses to works of art (Ingarden, 1975, p. 257). Proponents of the first view see aesthetics as being “a logic of sensation” (Malpas, 2001, p. 174) and is a way of understanding day-to-day experiences within our work/life. The alternative view engages more directly with works of art and makes links between them and life itself (Bathurst, 2004). In this paper we use the term in the first sense, which is also the way that Gagliardi uses it (Gagliardi, 1996). This is to refer to aesthetics as all types of sense experience and not simply to describe what is beautiful or defined as art. Aesthetic experience according to Gagliardi is a form of knowledge, a form of action and a form of communication (ibid). Understanding aesthetics as part of appreciating labour/work is important because aesthetics is now crucial to the ways that service-scapes are being designed as contemporary work places. These service-scape environments are engineered to synchronize customer aesthetic experience with employee aesthetic experience (Bitner, 1992; Fitzsimmons & Fitzsimmons, 2004). It must also be appreciated that the service-scape is not a static environment and nor is the experience that is being induced by the environment. The key to provision of a service in many service industries, and the fitness industry is a good example of this, is transformation

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(Guillet de Monthoux, 2004). This is why music is such an important element of the aerobics aesthetic transformation experience. Transformation occurs over time, and music also unfolds over time. When it is transformation experience that is being engineered by an environment, one can expect that symbolic and cultural material that facilitates transformation over time will be subject to intense pressure to support the profit-making entity. Consequently we can see an increased interest by marketers on musical performance and its impact on customer satisfaction (e.g. Minor, Wagner, Brewerton, & Hausman, 2004). Also, as another example, there is a concurrent use of spiritual experience and metaphors in the development of commodity environments and experiences (Belk, Wallendorf, & Sherry, 1989). Concerning the understanding of the use of music in capitalist production, Korcynski suggests Adorno as a starting point (Adorno, 1976; Korczynski, 2003). Adorno’s basic tenet is that the “main mode of listening to music in industrial capitalism … involves passivity, distraction and affirmation” (Korczynski, 2003, p. 11). Criticisms of the Frankfurt School, of which Adorno was a part, are now well known, and include such charges as elitism and a fundamental ignoring of human agency2. There is a central tension here between how cultural studies tends to interpret the use of music (emphasizing its use and the agency of its users), and the political economy approach3 (which emphasizes the structures of control and the materiality of the economic conditions under which action takes place). However, the point remains that within a capitalist labour process in a factory-type work setting, freedom (or agency) is compromised. Music can be, and is, conscripted into the capitalist processes meaning that music’s many pleasures and possibilities can be appropriated for profitmaking purposes. Popular music is a popular culture artifact which resides at this central tension point between individual freedom and agency and material economic structuring of behaviour. Thus, its use in the workplace needs to be interpreted and understood. Consumption of popular music in leisure is characterized according to Campbell, Gabriel and Lang by “formal irrationality, of pleasure-seeking, of hedonism, and of unpredictable autonomous expressiveness” (cited in Korczynski, 2003, p. 11). In the Taylorized workplace, workers’ listening to music is acceptable as long as it encourages passive consent rather than active engagement, or as long as it allows the 6

distraction or transportation of the worker in such a way as not to interfere with the dominant required bodily activities required to carry out the labour (ibid). But what of consumption of popular music in the workplace as part of the labour process? Korczynski suggests that popular music played in the factory affirms the necessity of labour by reminding workers of the rewards of putting up with having their freedom curtailed. But, it must be apparent that there is something more than simple pleasure-seeking, irrationality, hedonism and ‘unpredictable autonomous expressiveness’ going on in the scene described in the introduction to this paper — this is leisure, but not as we know it. And this is work, but the labourers are hardly passive in their engagement with the music, as the bodily activities of labour are required by the music. Fitness gyms are places where participants negotiate their local identities with the larger discourse (Crossley, 2004; Sassatelli, 1999), including their gender identities (Wacquant, 1995). Where does work stop and leisure begin for the instructors? Where does leisure stop and work begin for the participants? Writers such as Sternberg and Bauman have commented on this condition of work and leisure ‘de-differentiating’ and the emergence of ‘phantasmorgic labor’ (Bauman, 1998; Breedveld, 1996; Sternberg, 1998). Perhaps, even more importantly, what does the discourse of organization, that draws on discourses of pleasure, and of entertainment, mean for the constituted labouring subject? Do people resist (Ackroyd & Thompson, 1999; Sturdy, 1998)? One important factor that needs to be acknowledged is the complicating issue of the customer in service work. In service work the consumer and the producer are involved in a reciprocal and instantaneous exchange of production at the same time as consumption occurs. This provides a different context for work from that experienced in the factory setting. An important issue is that the labour is produced with the customer – they are co-producers of its meaning or, in another way of putting it, the customer is a partial employee (Halbesleben & Buckley, 2004). The value of the labour is in its synchronicity. It is not just a matter of the customer being a figure of authority (Abercrombie, 1994) as a quality agent, or another manager (Fuller & Smith, 1991). The service experience is rife with ambiguities and contradictions in its

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lived everyday experience of power as the customer and employee are involved in a reciprocal relationship of dependence (Sayers, 2003). Where the customer is included in the workplace, as is the case in aerobics work, the general rhetoric is that the consumer is prioritized. The idea that the ‘Customer is King’ (or Queen) — that the customer has sovereignty — is something of a myth, but certainly a philosophy that many companies claim to live by. At the very least it is important that the customer appears to be in control4. This extends to the rhetoric of the use of music in the workplace — the customers’ aural preferences are prioritized. Actually, as De Nora and Belcher (2000) have commented in the case of retail, managers systematically use music to pace and set the mood of the customer (not vice versa) (De Nora & Belcher, 2000). Fitness work requires the physical presence of the customer at the site where the service is offered. The conduct of fitness aerobics work can happen under a variety of business systems and employment relations, from the traditional business structure (large and small) to the franchise system. The embodied nature of the service requires direct contact between the provider of the service and the customer. Exercise programmes must deal with the same challenges of growth and profitability that other service industries have, such as beauty salons, restaurants, and health care. The franchise service system is the main production context for this style of service work. The franchise enables an organic growth of a business concept, but still retains some of the command and control aspects enabled by a bureaucracy, but also allows a proliferation of a system. The franchise enables a situation of ‘controlled-selfemployment’ (Bradach, 1998; Felstead, 1991). The self-employed fitness instructor is, despite their self-employment, in a managed situation and they are required to represent the ‘brand’ of their particular type of exercise regime. This representation is largely about reproducing the ‘image’ — the aesthetics — of the brand. Franchising is a common vehicle for replicating a service geographically and attracting investors who become independent owner-operators bound by a contractual agreement. Consistency in service delivery is expected by the franchisor, and the branding of the service is crucial to the growth strategy. With a proliferation of 8

exercise programmes now on the market, branding and gaining market share are key focused activities of management. Branding is a key issue for aesthetic management (Harris & de Chernatony, 2001; Pettinger, 2004). So far we have mentioned several points of contextual difference between the factory and the service system, as an introduction to the theoretical contexts of this paper: the business system, music as popular culture, the significance of the customer, and the embodied and active relationship of the music to the individual in the system. One final point to make is that there is an issue that needs to be unpicked about the transition from the customer to worker. As inferred above, the categories between these areas are de-differentiating. As Gibson claims (2003, p. 203): For most people, becoming a musician, writer, artist or film-maker begins as a response to being an avid consumer of ‘cultural’ products; one’s emotive response to certain acts of consumption leads to a desire to engage directly in the creative production, learning instruments or filming techniques, enrolling in creative writing, graphic design or sound engineering courses. Such a pool of amateur desire remains crucial, constituting the ‘truly creative and innovative energy that fuels [the music industry] from the bottom up’.

And so, the final theoretical issue to raise is about worker identity. In the present paper this relates specifically to developing understanding about the transitional state from participant to instructor – from consumer to worker – that has preoccupied many in the area of service work in both the critical and the management literature (Bitner, 1992; DuGay, 1996; Harris & de Chernatony, 2001; Nixon & Crewe, 2004; Ulrich, 1992).

Working out to music The following section now presents the empirical material of this paper, and begins by highlighting how the aesthetic and emotional experience of agents in the system are

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managed. We then turn to describing how instructors engage in aesthetic and emotional labour5. This paper presents preliminary results from a number of sources: a broad survey of fitness employers, a small number of interviews with license holders of aerobics franchises, publicly available organizational material, content analysis of the lyrics in common aerobics tracks, and finally participant observations in aerobics sessions by the authors. Because of the preliminary nature of this information, the paper focuses on elucidating a framework for understanding ideas about aesthetic labour in fitness work which uses music. This framework will then provide a barometer for further investigations.

Transformation I am an important part of creating life changing fitness experiences that will change the world. (Powerpoint slide from a presentation to Stepup instructors, Stepup, 2004)

An advertisement for Stepup is currently being shown in cinemas and on television. This advertisement goes as follows. First there is a wide angle shot of a large building set in foothills at an unspecified place, but the architecture of the building indicates it is a utilitarian prison-like structure, with oriental overtones. The environment is harsh, gritty, and this feeling is accentuated when a nasty Asian guard, wearing utilitarian clothes is seen marching towards a cell door. A woman is in a grubby and desolate looking cell. The surly guard looks in at her and gets a defiant stare. She is dirty, but beautiful — slim, lean and toned. A series of shots is then shown with the woman undergoing a series of grueling physical routines — running hard on the spot, doing chin-ups on a bar, and press ups on the floor. There is cut-shot to a caterpillar crawling up a brick wall in the cell. Between shots of her frenetic exercise activity, and the caterpillar crawling up the wall, is counter-posed the Asian guard berating her and telling her she will never be free. That she is under the complete control of the system. Next, the guard comes to the cell door again, looks in and sees a chrysalis 10

shell waving in the frigid air of the cell window bars. The guard rushes in, but the woman is gone. The next shot is of a blue butterfly, flying free and moving away from the prison. This advertisement illustrates that the experience being ‘manufactured’ by the engineers of the exercise experience is intended to be transformation (symbolized by the transformation of the struggling caterpillar into the beautiful flying butterfly). People in their embodied, emotional and even spiritual entireties are being moved from one state to another. This is an arduous journey involving pain and difficulty, that is ultimately worthwhile. Often fitness work is perceived as being only about the body – people go to fitness studios to make their bodies fit and maybe to lose weight and feel better about themselves — and to do this in as painless and enjoyable way as possible6. But this is too simple a reading of these manufactured transformative experiences. As can be seen from the introductory quote to this section, the vision of Stepup, for example, is far more ambitious than helping people get a bit fitter and better looking: they want to change the world! Transformation in appearances is an integral part of this transformative experience, but just as important is emotional, and even spiritual, transformation. Before moving into considering the actual internal psychological states that music evokes in participants and the experience of ‘working out’ to music, we first turn to the exterior physical environment. The service-scape or the engineered environment within which the experience of fitness-work occurs provides both the listening context and the visual landscape which conditions both the ocular and the aural modes of seeing and listening of participants. This provides the aesthetic ‘canvas’ for transformative action.

The service-scape Music creates an aural environment that is a dominant feature of the service-scape. The service-scape concept is illustrated in Appendix One. The service-scape model illustrates the various ways of manipulating the designed experience factors for both the employee and the customer including ambient sense conditions, design issues,

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signs and symbols, and other cognitive, emotional and psychological issues that impact on the felt experience.

Illustration 1 : Les Mills Step Class

(From: http://www.lesmills.co.nz) An aerobics class can be held just about anywhere. And they are held just about everywhere from the church hall, the community centre, the village green, to the most up-market gymnasium. As long as the music can be played loud enough, a fitness class to music can be held. But, other than the music, there are other aspects to the physical design that need to be highlighted. The illustration above demonstrates several features of the physical environment that typify an aerobics class: there is a stage, at least one instructor (sometimes more) facing the audience, and class participants face the stage in evenly placed situations, and exercise in a relatively small area, close together. The visual aesthetic is similar to that of a church, of the cinema, or of the music-hall. Also, the arrangement is much like there is on a bus, or an aeroplane, or other modes

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of public transport where everyone (except the instructor) are facing forward. A feeling of mass forward-movement, in an interior space, is evoked. Movements of the body encouraged during a fitness step session evoke a sense of transport and travel and include such experiences as: walking, climbing, flying, travelling around the world and landing in various airports, surfing, skiing, running, scooting, skating, and driving a car. In short, you can take a trip and never leave the room. The sense of virtual travel deliberately called upon in the environment evokes fantasy engagement with travel. This is a form of escape, but also the meaning of travel is more than passive escape as it is sometimes framed in the critical consumption literature7. The sensation of travel/escape is conscripted into the activity of working on one-self, which is not passive. Participating in classes, facing a stage, with the eye constantly trained on the instructor, who previews moves and demonstrates them, calls on other visual experiences: television watching, cinema spectatorship, attending a rock concert, and attending the theatre. These are primarily passive consumption experiences that engage the eye, with minimal requirements for participation. But, the experience also refers to more active participation modes in popular culture — reality television and karaoke — because the audience is actively involved in what is being produced for consumption (the audience often sings along, as does the instructor, and occasionally participants might join the instructor on the stage, when invited). Customers have fan orientations to their instructors (Fiske, 1989a, 1989b). Instructors that are considered to be very good can even become celebrities. The aestheticized space of the work-out is filled with fantasy images evoked through the environment, their dance/exercise steps, and the music (that is, by popular culture). Instead of being outside engaging in exercise, the activity takes place inside, and so it is virtual travel with fantasy engagement that occurs. But, as with outdoor walking (Edensor, 2000), the movements still symbolise process and expansion of the self. The moving body is reflexively monitored, in relation to the senses that engage with the virtual cultural material made available for consumption. The visions that are seen are evoked in the imagination. As with walking, the movement is also shaped around visual practices – the ocular pursuit of seeing what is framed (ibid). Unlike

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being outside in nature, however, the body in the city is “primarily a performing self of appearance, display and impression management” (Csordas, 1994, p. 2). The similarity between the environmental features of an aerobics class, and that of a church is obvious, but we need to draw attention to it. The opening anecdote with which we began this paper used an example of a Patti La Belle song ‘Are you ready for a miracle’ and the actions of the participants, to draw attention to the ritualistic and spiritual symbology of transformation used in aerobics classes. Gospel songs and spiritual analogies in lyrics (see below when we discuss lyrics) are often used in the music to elucidate the transformational feelings that the exercise programme wishes to evoke in participants. The use of a raised stage evokes the pulpit. The step boxes are arranged like pews, and occasionally participants even kneel (when conducting lunges, and during the stretch tracks at the end of the sessions). The experience is a ritual for regular gym goers, who enter the experience for renewal and for collective experiences of community (albeit the collective experiences characteristic of urban life which are fragmented). The training of the eye towards the stage that we have been attempting to emphasize in this section is therefore not only emerging because of modern entertainment systems, but lies further back, possibly even in modes of worship. We return to this issue of spiritual transformation and ritual towards the end of this paper.

Music as an aesthetic technological prosthetic De Nora has provided an excellent commentary on the use of music in fitness studios. She argues that music should be seen as prosthetic technology: in short, a material that can extend what the body can do. Music is a technology. That is, music, as it is used in fitness studios is a tool along with its associated processes (Grint & Gill, 1995). The technology aims to engender particular moods, and physical associative states that encourage and support ‘transformative’ transitions. Many aerobics systems to music are sold, often through the Internet8. The music is generally American popular which has had commercial success (Connell & Gibson, 14

2003)9. This music has a few key features: for aerobic work-outs the music should raise and keep the heart-beat at a level that will increase fitness and accelerate ‘fatburning’ (128 – 136 beats per minute). The music also tends to have perfect 32 count phrasing (BKHowe). So, a typical aerobics step song would have definite 32 count parts, which can be easily organized into eight parts of four – most choreographed exercise movements are done to a 1-2-3-4 time. The phrasing of the music thus requires particular rhythms, but the music does not entirely enforce its power over the bodies that are working out to it. The music is put together to encourage a synthesis with the participants. De Nora comments that: “In the warm up phase antipasto, lyrics, melodic-associative figures and musical colour are characteristic” (De Nora, 2000, p. 100). In the music of the aerobics core, the focus is deliberately shifted to the physicality of the musical beat. As De Nora comments, if the music has done its ‘work’ at the stage of the core participants become “less self-conscious, more meditatively engaged in the exercise, and as this happens, the musical materials become increasingly rhythmical, less melodic, so that for part of the number they are little more than a clear and relentless beat” (ibid). Most lyrically de Nora then goes on to say: “class members are most fully enlisted or conscripted as aerobic agents; here the ‘doing’ of aerobics is all-encompassing: as the Zen expression has it, ‘not a thought arises’”(ibid). Or, as the title to this paper suggests, the music has taken your mind. So, the music takes the thinking mind, and it also takes away the pain and the boredom of exercise as well. But, again, the exercise is not forced. The music has power over the body, to be sure. But, its relationship to the body and mind is more in the analogy of the mechanical prosthetic than the machine enforcing a bodily response from the worker10. As De Nora has commented: Here, then, is how music may be understood to have power over bodies: it affords materials — structures, patterns, parameters and meanings — that bodies may appropriate or latch on to (mostly semi-consciously). Music is, in short, a material against which to shape bodily processes, whether these are physiological states (such as exhaustion or arousal), behavioural movements (such as kicking or jumping), coordination in some setting (dance steps), self-perception of bodily state (pain or fatigue, pleasure), or motivational levels (being predisposed, in some embodied way,

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to a particular line of activity, such as, moving faster, jumping higher, slowing down and so on). Music accomplishes none of these things in its own right – it is not a ‘force’ like gravity or wave power. It is rather a potential ‘source’ of bodily powers, a resource for the generation of bodily agency. Music is, or rather can serve as, a constitutive property of bodily being . (De Nora, 2000, p. 99)

The music itself, beyond its beat, its melodic properties or instruments that are used, is polysemous. Although genres of music are chosen for their associative properties in evoking mood, music expresses abstract emotion. Words cannot capture emotion, or music’s meaning completely11. It is the words that are associated with the music, that translate its meaning into an exercise regime, that provide the narrower discourse of control in the aerobics workout.

Anchoring music with lyrics and instructions Lyrics act as ‘anchors’ for music in the music system, in a similar way that Barthes argues that text anchors images (Barthes, 1977). Barthes argues in Image–text–music that in the intentional image (in his example, advertising) there are three messages. A linguistic message, a coded iconic message, and a non-coded iconic message. The two functions of the linguistic message with regard to the iconic message is anchorage and relay. All images are polysemous; “they imply, underlying their signifiers, a ‘floating chain’ of signifieds, the reader able to choose some and ignore others” (Barthes, 1977, p. 39). Using this idea, the lyrics in fitness music anchor the abstract emotional meanings of the instrumental sounds on a song. These lyrics are then anchored again by instructors, who convert the still abstract meanings of the lyrics to meanings that explicitly relate to the exercise regime. The lyrics tell participants how they should feel about the music at that time. For example, the music (without the lyrics) to the track Cruisin’ given and discussed in Note 1 to this paper, is itself polysemous and abstract, enabling many meanings to be made of it (within the specifics of the music’s genre (love song), the timing and 16

melody of the track which evokes a relaxing feeling, and the other ordering aspects of the system – e.g. where the track might come in the exercise regime, which gives many clues as to the properties of the music to be interpreted). Music is an emotional language according to Langer (1962). Words can never adequately explain and communicate emotion: words cannot ever capture entirely what is expressed in music. But words are used to translate music into a narrower range of meanings which makes its interpretation by an audience easier (and easier to be shared). Thus, the lyrics to the music used in fitness work make the symbolic meanings of the system more explicit to everyone. In order to understand what these meanings are, we conducted a content analysis on tracks commonly used in aerobics music. Each lyric was provided with code/s which described the type of feeling or experience that the lyrics of the track was trying to evoke. These codes were ascribed by three different people, and then combined to minimize subjective coding, and give a variety of views. The results of this analysis are provided in Table One at Appendix Two. The main meanings of the lyrics are: activity, travel, eroticism/sexuality, relationships (connecting with others, love), partying, freedom, independence, spiritualism, novelty, and self-esteem. These meanings all encourage fantasy engagement during exercise by the participants in the system. When combined with the bodily activities that the music encourages, the meanings can often be accentuated. For instance, in the songs about travel, the participants often mimic actions such as walking, running, surfing, dancing, flying and so on. When participating in the song ‘Freeze Frame’, the instructor mimics the taking of a photograph, and everyone stops as if ‘frozen’ in time by the photograph (Connell & Gibson, 2004). The instructors can accentuate or convert the meanings of the lyrics and their skill at doing this is often a key to their skill as instructors — as replicators, teachers and as performers. In the song ‘I’m Flying’ participants engage in movements that mimic flying, but also raise the arms during exercise, a technique that increases blood flow around the body, and raises the heart rate, making the body work harder. When exercising to ‘Faster, harder, scooter’ the fantasy travel aspect is engaged with as instructors raise the levels of activity by calling on the hard work signaled in the title 17

to the song — faster, harder. The scooter meaning is converted into a manic skiing move that pretends to drive the body forward (while it is stationary). Thus the meanings of the music are narrowed and accentuated to relate directly to the focus of the activity — exercise. Is it possible to have a hyper-real travel fantasy? The music, lyrics and body movements encourage this in aerobics. Some songs evoke ‘blasting off’ in a rocket, traveling between planets in outer space, and even flying like superman. So far we have discussed several levels of symbolic and cultural material in the fitness-to-music system: branding (including advertising), and the production of the service experience through providing cultural material — ideas about transformation, instrumental music, lyrics, and popular culture modes of viewing in the environment. We have begun to talk about how the instructors engage with the cultural material (lyrics) of the music in their work. We now turn to discussing how instructors use aesthetic material in their work in more detail.

The aesthetic and emotional work of the instructors The ‘workout’ is a “session of exercise or practice to improve fitness, as for athletic competition”. It can also mean a “strenuous test of ability and endurance” or to “develop in intricate and painstaking detail” (Oxford Concise Dictionary, 1999). ‘Working out’ is what fitness instructors do for a living. ‘Working out’ is hard physically demanding work that carves out the body with labour. It also requires considerable emotional labour (Hocschild, 1983), and knowledge about such issues as exercise techniques, health and safety, and nutrition. As part of the present study we have surveyed all New Zealand fitness facilities to identify the role that aesthetics plays in their recruitment and selection practices in the fitness industry12. This survey indicates that aesthetics is an important recruitment criteria for employers employing and contracting for customer-facing staff, but that other criteria are also important such as: technical skills (equipment use), interpersonal communication, selfpresentation, performance, fitness and athleticism, versatility and knowledge.

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Even when instructors are contracted to a gym, i.e. they are self-employed, they are in a ‘controlled self-employment’ situation (Felstead, 1991). If they are delivering the exercise programme of a franchise or gymnasium then they are required to reproduce an ‘expected’ exercise experience in their classes. This experience has many levels. Each exercise regime may have a particular brand which raises an emotional and aesthetic expectation in participants. This branding is communicated through advertising and marketing campaigns, through the appearance and attitudes of its instructors, the market segment the service is aimed at, the quality of the instructors, the quality of the facility, and the popularity of the music and moves that are used in the sessions. The system may provide support such as research, training and new music programmes. Stepup for example provides training and ‘new releases’ of music every three months for their license holders. Initial training of Stepup instructors includes the expectation that they: be able to reproduce 100% of the choreography, to rolemodel the physical execution, to give clear instructions and quality coaching, to be effective at communication, and to understand “the true nature of performance”. In addition, with further training instructors are expected to be able to “be different every time – appeal … excite, compel and delight!” (Stepup, 2004). Instructors may learn about choreography and usually also diet, nutrition, the effects of exercise regimes on the body, basic physiology and injury prevention. The level of knowledge and competency developed by instructors depends very much on the quality of the franchise operation. Observations in aerobics sessions would support the idea that the road from no skill to very skilled in instruction starts when one goes to an aerobics session for the first time. These levels of competency are illustrated below in Table 2: Levels of competency in fitness-to-music work.

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Table 1: Levels of competency in fitness-to-music work

Level of skill

Competency

Participant or Instructor

Absolute Beginner

Can participate in some of Class participant the moves some of the time

Beginner

Can conduct moves with feet Class participant and lower body, using lower step options – no or rare use of arms

Intermediate

Can follow class with whole Class participant body

(including

arm

movements) Advanced

Can exercise vigorously to Class participant routines, and is able to have Instructor fun with the tracks

Performance/Celebrity Can

excite,

compel

and Instructor

delight others

Fitness instructors often work for more than one service outlet. They also often hold down other jobs — both full-time and part-time and are often parents as well. For instructors that are parents, instructing provides a flexible work schedule where they are able to maintain a level of fitness and/or an interest in exercise. Often instructors come to the profession after being involved as consumers, sports competitors or through interests and hobbies such as: marching, dancing, gymnastics, competitive sport, or through being involved with gymnasiums. The exercise schedule of some participants we have interviewed so far was quite gruelling and could involve both the giving and receiving of classes, and attending training sessions as well. For instance, one participant conducted sessions at four different facilities: 9 – 12 times a week and sometimes more if other instructors were

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ill or injured. These classes were all at the upper end of the activity rating – high intensity aerobic workouts. In addition she was also attending training and choreography sessions which required physically working out, as she was learning a new programme around ‘core strength training’. At the time we interviewed her she was quite tired and sore. When asked if she was addicted to exercise she replied, “No, I am addicted to the money”, which reinforced the financial necessity of her exercise work. Another participant had an even more gruelling schedule although it mainly concentrated on relaxation exercise such as yoga. Even so, yoga is physically demanding, and this instructor’s schedule was intense: Monday — conducted a weight class and a yoga class, assisted a yoga session, and participated in a training session; Tuesday — conducted yoga and a step class and then participated for 2 hours as a participant in a yoga class; Wednesday – conducted a yoga class; Thursday – participated in a yoga class as a client and then took a step class; Friday – taught a step class and then a yoga class; and on Saturday spent 2 ½ hours participating in a yoga class; Sunday was off. This amounted to fifteen and a half hours of exercise per week. This is physically, emotionally and aesthetically demanding work that extends outside of the actual class. During one interview an instructor chatted to her colleague about what they would both wear, to coordinate their look, that evening for a class. Instructors are expected to role model a tidy, attractive and presentable image to their classes, and presentation takes time, effort and money. When asked to talk about their physical appearances and the expectations of this in their work, the respondents seemed aware of the negative image of aerobics — the pink lycra and g-string image that was prevalent in the 1980s — and did not agree this was relevant to what they did. They were also aware of the association with eating disorders, obsessive dieting, and obsessive exercising that is often associated with aerobics (Lloyd, 1996). These ‘myths’ got short shrift from interviewees so far, although they did admit that ‘gym bunnies’ exist and are generally unhealthily obsessive about exercise and looks. Interviewees seemed to think that an instructor would not be able to cope with the job if they were under-nourished or over-tired. In terms of the amount of exercise that they conduct in one week, well, “that is just what we do” as one person put it – “we are very fit and your body gets used to it”. In terms of what the ideal body shape for an instructor was, instructors did not feel that there was an ideal body shape. In 21

general the only provisos were that the person could cope with the level of exercise required, that they were fit, and that they were not over-weight. Different body shapes were mentioned as being more suited to particular types of exercise, but in general a variety of body shapes and sizes were acceptable as long as they role modelled fitness. Whilst saying this, other informal conversations and observations would suggest that this described reality is not necessarily the real reality. It is known for example, that instructors, when preparing for competition body-building and aerobics, will diet to lose weight to achieve the ‘ideal’ shape for competitions — this can involve serious under-nourishment and over-exercise at certain times of the year. In the week before competitions competitors also ‘de-hydrate’ to prepare. Sometimes managers can insist on certain standards of appearance which might include suntans — either by the sun or in a tanning clinic. Instructors might even have surgery to fix perceived ‘faults’ in their body’s appearance. It should be mentioned at this point that we asked interviewees if they ‘rested’ during their work, and how they coped when they were tired. Although they struggled to understand the question sometimes, with prompting most instructors and in conjunction with observations the following methods of ‘resting’ were identified: coming off the step box and fiddling with the volume control on other bits of equipment, lowering the step box, not trying so hard — keeping their own level down while they used their voice to compel participants; cruising to the music ( ‘leaning back’ into the music to help it motivate them); changing and varying their pace; and having a partner on the stage and taking turns at leading the session. Despite the physically demanding nature of their work, instructors mentioned ‘loving’ their work: they had a ‘passion’ for exercising to music. When asked why they loved it so much, the answers revolved around how they helped others feel and improve their lives — “I love making people feel good, grow in confidence and feel good about themselves”. In interviews instructors confirmed that the most competent instructors were ones that actually enjoyed being on the stage. One fitness instructor, Rebecca, who had been 22

recruiting people herself for over 20 years, and had herself been ‘picked’ out of a class to become an instructor, gave a clear summary of what she saw as being the requirements for an instructor: “First, to be a host (e.g. greet, be friendly, maintain eye contact); second, to be an instructor (e.g. cueing, showing); third to be a technician (e.g. safety-first, and provide visual and verbal cues); fourth to be a performer (e.g. be original, provide anecdotes, be daring, use personality, be dramatic) ; and fifth to be a replicator (e.g. reproduce branding, do the routines right every time, show the level changes)”. Janine commented more succinctly, “You must enjoy people. Enjoy being on the stage”. She suggested older people make the best instructors because they “care less and radiate more”. She related an incident to the interviewer where her daughter had said to her after a class, “Mum, you are getting prettier as you get older”. Janine reflected that this comment summed up how she actually felt about getting older and what she projected as a fitness instructor — that she was less neurotic about her appearance, and much less self-conscious. Instructors confirmed that the qualities that make an advanced instructor included the ability to radiate personality and reach out to others with theatrical generosity and authenticity. In terms of their use of music in their work, fitness instructors were quite articulate13 about some aspects of it. Instructors mentioned the actual generic structure of the tracks and how they ‘read’ the music to help them anticipate and thereby get through each track — for example, the verse where the instructor focuses on toning and the chorus, where she would focus on picking the pace up. Observations of instructors are that they often use music to ‘remember’ the movements to tracks. They often stand in front of the class and admit they can’t remember what they are to do next but will pick it up when the music starts. Rebecca, was very articulate about her relationship to the music. She connected the movement of the body, the music, the emotions, and her well-developed Christian belief system to articulate her philosophy of her use of music at work. Her training at Bible College, she felt, had provided her with most of what she needed to know about music in her work, as well as how to make it connect to the class participants. Rebecca commented:

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Music is important to God, as he helps us open our emotions to worship … Music helps us to express what he wants us to express ... Music is an avenue for healing… When we sing we let our emotions out — it is cathartic … There are so few places where we can actually express ourselves emotionally … (Personal communication, 13 July, 2004)

To Rebecca the experience that was being created was about: … togetherness and love — connecting people. It is not about me. We are doing it together. It is about us. .. I love good Christian Worship Music. The music is designed to lift you, to help you feel emotion, and to encourage tranquility… In (a more quiet and meditative group fitness class) I love Tai Chi Sacral Nirvana [she plays the interviewer part of the track, pointing out when an instrumental Balalaika moves to the foreground of the music, which she demonstrates as literally pulling at her heart] … In (a very energetic and high impact group fitness class) though I just love the real head-banging stuff because of the physical expression. You can really get wild and loose – go absolutely out-there. (ibid)

Another instructor, Janine, expressed a preference for ‘weights’ music. She admired the choreography, and the way the music evoked passions but also ‘easy and loose’ feelings in the transitions between tracks and alterations in movements. She also enjoyed the intense tracks at the highest level in the cardio workouts. These are the running, fun and party tracks which occur at the peak of a session and towards the end of a class — these were the times she felt most engaged in the workout. Again, the feeling of “completely losing it” in the music was mentioned. The instructors have some control over the music they can play, but rarely seemed to alter what was provided on the standard releases. They might swap from one ‘release’ to another half way through, but mainly seemed to systematically work their way through music mixes pre-prepared by the franchise. On-the-other-hand observations show that instructors often vary routines. In one particular incident an instructor made the whole thing up, laughing about it at the end of the track saying, “Well, I made that choreography up as I went along!”. Instructor’s use and sometimes even conversion of the lyrics to the music was apparent. As mentioned, lyrics mean that the possibilities of musical polysemy are

24

narrowed. These are narrowed yet again by the constant and never-ending vocalizations of the aerobics instructors during the tracks. The instructors are constantly exhorting the participants about what the music means in terms of their fitness routine. This is also reinforced by their actions, which are choreographed into the routines. For example, in one incident a male instructor, George, used the song from Tom Jones which includes in it constant references to ‘retribution’ to signal that the song was retribution for the legs. Revenge on the legs? With another track, a weights instructor, Katie, emphasized the repeated word on a song, ‘Surrender!’, to urge the participants to ‘surrender’ to her during a weights session. When rapport occurs during an exercise session to music, then a transcendent point of the system has occurred — there has been a shared experience. Rapport depends largely on the personality of the instructor to create it. Rebecca had strong opinions on lyrics, saying that she intensely disliked the lyrics that she saw as shallow, but loved the lyrics that “actually tell you something”. Again on the themes of togetherness, she saw the lyrics as being crucial to achieve this, and believed that the lyrics she used were precisely chosen to encourage positive experiences, never negative ones. She indicated that she would stress certain lyrics when she wanted to emphasize them. This was especially true on tracks where with spiritual themes such as in Gospel tracks. She also would also attempt to shut out others she found offensive. She referred here in particular a track line from a ‘speed track’ Alice’s Restaurant, where the word “fuck” was apparent, until it was ‘bleeped’ out of the track by the franchisor. Also she would convert overtly sexual lyrics to more ‘acceptable’ meanings. For example, in a weights track where people were referred to as ‘humping’, she would convert it to ‘pumping’. It should be noted though, that sharing of personality always comes with risks. In the case of Rebecca, her emphasis on certain aspects of songs that emphasized their religious content was perceived as sermonizing by many in her class, and her personality was often seen as abrasive. Rebecca was well aware of the effect she had on people, but remained a popular and hard working instructor and so this tendency to preach was tolerated where she worked. Janine also similarly mentioned aerobics ‘facists’ who had no tolerance for mistakes, and would complain over any little alteration in a regime. Janine also took this in her stride, accepting it was part of her work to be disliked by some.

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Rapport is also encouraged in the system with signals between the instructor and participants. Signaling occurs between the instructor and the participants: as one instructor put it, “the audience is with you”. The instructors’ instructions and nonverbal signals tell the participants what to do, and when the participants signal back, and call back, then this is another indication that the transcendent point of the system has been achieved. So far we have emphasized that the work of instructors is physically and emotionally demanding and have shown some of the ways instructors use aesthetic material to create their display for consumption14. Our focus in discussing the aesthetic and emotional work of instructors so far has been on the use of music as an ‘aesthetic prosthetic’. Specifically we have aimed to show how instructors use music in their work to display, enhance, and convert through their individualities, their personal vision of their emotional and aesthetic work. The instructors, in short, use all the cultural and symbolic material at their disposal (the music, but also the company’s branding, the discourses of the larger company (around exercise, fitness, nutrition, safety), their bodies, uniforms, and popular culture) to blend, in a sort of creative bricolage activity, an aesthetic and emotional ‘show’ that when the instructor is fully competent, is quite unique. We now move on to discuss these observations in light of the theoretical concerns raised earier in this paper.

Discussion and conclusions Grint (1991) raises the question ‘What is work?’ and argues that work “tends to be an activity that transforms nature” (p. 7). In fitness work what is being transformed is not nature, it is people. Grint points out that how we understand work is constructed through historical, gendered and political processes. We live in a world where issues of aesthetics have become supremely important. The art of presentation is a harrowing imperative (Lan, 2003). Aesthetic work is now a significant part of what many people do, but what does ‘aesthetic labour’ mean? Willis argued in 1990 that as human beings we are symbolically creative, saying “we argue for symbolic creativity as an integral ‘ordinary’ part of the human condition …”

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(p. 6). Being symbolically creative involves work of a symbolic kind (Longhurst, 1995), which is: … the application of human capacities to and through, on and with symbolic resources and raw materials [collections of signs and symbols – for instance, the language as we inherit it as well as texts, songs, films, images and artifacts of all kinds] to produce meanings. (ibid, p. 10)

The basic elements of symbolic work include language and the active body, and symbolic creativity involves the “production of new …. meanings intrinsically attached to feelings, to energy, to excitement and psychic movement” (Willis, 1990, p. 11). Although Willis’ comments were to do with the creative everyday pursuits of young people in sub-cultures, his comments have particular resonance in the present study. Latour has observed that looking only at human action is like limiting one’s gaze to half a tennis match. Similarly, to only define the way that people ‘appear’ at work as being their aesthetic labour neglects the effects of the technology (the things) that interface with that appearance, and the emotional/behavioural aspects of their appearance also. In short, the aesthetic and emotional work of instructors is one of symbolic creativity. Although not in what is usually thought of as a creative industry (Nixon & Crewe, 2004), there are many similarities. We hope to have drawn attention to some of the ways that the cultural and symbolic material is used by the instructors in their aesthetic display and in their emotional management techniques. Language anchors the music’s meaning, at the level of the lyrics and then is narrowed again by the instructors who tell participants how they should use the music, and so how they should feel and think in response to the music. The use of language and its prescription (Leidner, 1993) even to its style (Cameron, 2000; Nickson et al., 2001) has been noted in the literature on service work. But, this is not a passive acceptance and merging into the ‘hardware’ provided by the organisation by the ‘software’ – its human resources (Nickson et al., 2001; Pels, Hetherington, & Vandenberghe, 2002). There is an active engagement and use of the music by the participants in the system. Further, the music provides both an aesthetic

27

and also an emotional prosthetic. As Finnegan (2003) has pointed out, it is unhelpful to create a mind-body distinction — to separate out emotional and aesthetic elements. De Nora (2000), in introducing her chapter on music as a device of social ordering, draws on notions of human-non-human interaction. “It dispenses with the notion that society is merely ‘people doing things’ ... It highlights agency as consisting of feeling, as corporeal and stylistic entity, and as something that may possess ceremonial features …” (109). Jervis defines theatricality as it relates to identity “… as a play of masks, through fantasy identifications, projections and roles, the self appears as multiple, always other to itself” (1998, p. 343). He goes on to argue: “Social interaction becomes an ‘acting out’ of identity”, and that these aspects of selfhood suggest that the self is multidimensional, and open to the variety of experiences made possible by modernity. He states, “Indeed, theatricality is always, in principle, in tension with the world of narrative and project; but when harnessed to the latter, permits a degree of controlled flexibility and adaptability to the world of others”. And “In the age of spectacle and mass media, theatricality becomes an essential component of self-identity through personality, the rehearsal of individuality as a distinctive attribute of each person” (ibid). Authenticity has been identified as a major issue for front-line service agents, especially as it relates to emotional dissonance (Ashforth & Tomiuk, 2000). The purely authentic, and so ideal, fitness instructor feels no dissonance between their performance and their real selves, because performance is the real self. Each person is the star in their own show, and as reality television is demonstrating to us every night on TV, our fifteen minutes of fame can be played out in everyday life as well as on the screen in our living rooms. But there is a strangely silent relationship between participants in the system and the system. Yes, the music is loud, but is it understood? One interviewee made a telling comment when asked what she listened to outside of work: “I can’t bear any noise when I get home”, she said. “I never play the stereo”. “I don’t listen to music”. What may occur during an aerobics session is a powerful altered state – “trance, ecstasy, possession, obsession, conversion”.

Transformation has been usefully 28

described in several places. Langer (1962) refers to it as occurring when symbol and object seem to fuse and are experienced as a perfectly undifferentiated whole (Myerhoff, 1995). Such experiences cannot be compelled – only invited and sought. This issue of transformation in service environments is a crucial one for work researchers, as service workers engage in and facilitate these experiences. These transformative experiences are highly seductive and draw on entertainment medium (Guillet de Monthoux, 2004). The work itself is also partially entertainment: both in the way that it is framed for consumption, and in the experience of it as a form of ‘active’ escapism15. Entertainment is no longer spatially or temporally separate from work. This begs the question: Is not the rise of pleasure in ordinary everyday working life a heartening sign? What is intrinsically wrong with a system that provides hedonistic opportunities for transformation? People enjoy showing off. Why not? In answer to these questions, what is required is critical distance – how else are we to know what else might be possible? How else are we to know what is excluded while some work on their appearances, and some can’t afford to? Now, to return to Law’s (1994) notion of the illusionary nature of pools of order, that is quoted at the beginning of this paper. To look in from the outside into an aerobics studio, perhaps through a viewing window, one can immediately note the ordering effects of the aesthetic musical environment. There is clearly a regulation of the effort of instructors and a consistency in the response of particpants. In reflecting on the idea of ‘pools of order’ our intent has been to describe and theorise the intense effort that is required on the part of the organizing system, the instructors and the participants in sessions to maintain this ‘illusion’ of aesthetic order. Also our hope has been to communicate some of the work and pain (Scarry, 1985) that is involved in the creation of these moments of symbolic and social interaction. In particular we have focused on the use of music in this endeavour as the primary symbolic tool to create and maintain this order. … capitalism itself is moving into a phase in which the cultural forms and meanings of its outputs are becoming critical if not dominating elements of productive strategy,

29

and in which the realm of human culture as a whole is increasingly subject to commodification … the culture we consume is to an ever greater degree supplied through profit-making institutions in decentralized markets. (2000, cited in Gibson, 2002)

One final point about creativity in closing. Perhaps aesthetic labour is more about communicating feeling, as it is with other expressive arts. Langer (1962) has argued that music is an ‘expressive form’ – it communicates feeling and emotion. Langer states: What discursive symbolism – language in its literal use – does for our awareness about us and our own relation to them, the arts do for our awareness of subjective reality, feeling and emotion; they give form to inward experiences and thus make them conceivable …. There is nothing necessarily confused

or formless about

emotions … (1962, p. 93)

Although one might feel hard-pushed to say that fitness instruction is art, in coming to a conclusion we would like to point out the similarities between the work that fitness instructors do and the work of artists. Like art, instruction involves symbolic creation and communication: the conscious creation of something of meaning that is considered to have aesthetic properties – that is, which is ‘beautiful’. Strati (1992) concurred with Langer that when people sing, make rhythms, and listen to music during their work, that these actions cannot be considered as art because “pure selfexpression does not require an artistic form” (1992, p. 568). But also that “today it is generally acknowledged that analysis of beauty may be extended from art to social practices” (ibid). Aerobics instruction can be a complex and skilled process of using the symbolic material at the instructor’s disposal – the music, the lyrics, dance, the symbology made available by the larger organisation in terms of their branding, customer preferences and personalities, the theatre, and even karaoke — to create rapport, entertainment and transcendent emotional and physical experiences amongst the participants (Drew, 2001; Fishman, 2003; Nixon & Crewe, 2004; Pettinger, 2004). It is a fluid aesthetic, and it requires considerable work and pain to create it (Scarry,

30

1985). An instructor can use the cultural and symbolic material of the system in a kitset fashion — merely combining the pre-formed elements at a sub-conscious level without much thought. But, like the work of a celebrity chef, the work of the ‘celebrity’ or ‘performance-level’ instructor involves considerable performance skill. Is the work art? Is the aesthetic mode reality TV? Or is the aesthetic labour more like that displayed on TV Idol? In short, is aesthetic labour karaoke?

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Appendix One: Bitner’s Model of the Service-scape

32

Appendix Two: Codes assigned to lyrics from aerobics tracks Table 2: Codes assigned to lyrics from aerobics tracks Title of track

Code/s

Level of activity Warm up Warm up Warm up Warm up High level

Venus Everybody's free Walk on to the light Get over you Alive

erotic, sex, fantasy freedom, independence, connecting with others spiritual, love, transformation, god relationship, coping with others, annoyance/anger fantasy, connecting with others, love

Same old brand new Everybody' Don't stop Jumpin'

erotic, connecting with others, coping with relationship dance, party, sexual love, connecting with others, stopping time Dance, activity

High level High level High level High level

Scream if you wanna go faster Flash's theme I'm flying I'll find a way How much is the fish? A deeper love

religious, transformation, god fantasy, gimmick travel, fantasy, connecting with others spiritual, fantasy, action, nonsense, self esteem, values, self affirmation

High level High level High level High level High level High level

Get down I wanna get up She bangs Let's get loud Let's celebrate Yes (radio clean version) Rock this town Faster harder scooter War Why'd you lie to me? The edge of heaven Have a little faith in me Tide is high Back to the world Your body is a wonderland Big yellow taxi jam mix Beautiful lyric

dance, activity erotic, connecting with others, love activity, motivating, dance, freedom dance, activity, partying, good time, celebrating love, connecting with others, erotic love, erotic, sex, dance, Dance, activity, celebrating, connecting with others. protest, freedom, anger coping with other, relationship, anger fantasy, travel, spiritual love relationship, love, connecting with others, erotic connecting with others, love, relationship connecting with others, love, relationship sex, erotic, protest, environment, fantasy pain, love, coping & connecting with others

Eternal flame Underneath your clothes Maria Maria

Love, erotic, fantasy coping with other, relationship, love protest, anger, love

High level High level High level High level High level High level High level High level Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down Warm down

Cruisin' Amazing Grace

love, connecting with others, fantasy travel spiritual, gospel

Warm down Warm down

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Notes 1

This title is from the song lyrics to ‘Cruisin’, which is sung as a duet by Huey Lewis and Gwyneth Paltrow in the movie ‘Duets’. The song represents a fusion of a number of different popular culture genres: karaoke (the movie is about a group of people converging on a karaoke competition), a movie (the song is from the movie) and rock performance (Huey Lewis is a well-known rock musician). The lyrics of the song have sexual/erotic connotations (which in the context of the father-daughter relationship of Paltrow and Lewis is somewhat incongruous, but also needs to read in the exterior reference of the movie to the well known fact that the movie was done by Paltrow with her real father Bruce Paltrow who directed, who was sick with cancer, and died soon after the movie was made). The lyrics also signify general relationship connection, and provides a direct reference to the power of the music to express emotion, and remove ‘thought’ (as in words). The song therefore personifies many of the themes that emerge in this following paper. Lyrics from one verse are:

Let the music, take your mind Just release you will find You're gonna fly (away) Yeah, I'm glad you're going my way I love it, when we're cruisin together The music is played for love, Cruisin' is made for (love) I love it, I love it, I love it You're gonna fly away Yeah, glad you're going my way I love it when we're cruisin' together (The music is played for love) It's love music (Cruisin' is made for love) ... fade 2 Actually Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times is perhaps a better commentary on the use of music in capitalist production. See Sayers and Monin (Sayers & Monin, 2004). 3 For a summary of this theoretical debate see Grossberg (Grossberg, 1998). 4 “Fordist industrialization involves work which is predominantly machine-paced, and in which management dominates the structuring of aural space” (Korczynski, 2003, p. 16). In the aerobics studio the work is music-paced, although still management dominated. Customers and instructors can exert some influence on the music that is chosen. For example, customers are able to opt for their own favourite tracks before or after classes - practically all instructors will ask participants to nominate their favourite tracks - and there are often avenues for nominating new tracks on club, gym and fan oriented web sites. 5 All organisations and instructors have been given pseudonyms to protect their identity. 6 Stepup, for example, in their market research which they use to help focus their branding activities, claim that people are on a continuum in their appearance desires of wanting to conform, to being seen as an individual. People that want to appear to conform want to be one of the crowd, maintain general fitness as part of a healthy lifestyle, and are less confident than others. Those that want to stand out as an individual wish to stand out from the crowd, have specific fitness goals of status needs, and are more confident and self-focused (Stepup, 2004). 7 Jervis (1998) provides a summary of approaches to understating modern consumption. 8 For example a lists of suppliers can be found on the Internet (e.g. Aerobics music). 9 Aerobics music has other musical qualities that can be highlighted. Aerobics music is not really elevator music (Lanza, 1994), although as an aesthetic device it is involved in mood-setting and in emotional management (Wasserman, Rafaeli, & Kluger, 2000). But, aerobics music is not back-ground music, but fore-ground music, although, like musak it is doctored specifically to evoke certain physiological and mood responses. There is much scientific literature to support the use of aerobics music in fitness to help people achieve physiological and psychological responses. For instance researchers have looked at liking and disliking responses to music (North & Hargreaves, 1996).

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Franchisors also commission their own research into issues such as caloric expenditure and aerobic demands of their specific programmes (Pfitzinger, 2000). 10 It should be noted that there are a number of different ways of exercising to music in a group fitness situation. Les Mills for instance is a good example of a franchise system that provides a number of different offerings for various purposes. But, in every case both distraction and meditation are two seemingly contradictory aspects of the exercise to music process. ‘Losing oneself’ in and to the music and the routine is an important part of what is desired and achieved. So, in the more meditative BodyBalance® system, moving from one’s head to one’s ‘heart’ is advocated. In BodyStep®, moving from the head to a body state absorbed in rhythm is the aim. In BodyPump®, where weights are used, it seems that pain is the aim – the feeling of pain is essential to the experience of the workout (LesMills, 2004). 11 Although lyrics can complement music’s ability to communicate emotion, through setting poetry to music for example. 12 The results of this survey are still being collated, but we sent out 296 surveys, and have so far received a 40% response rate. 13 Taylor has pointed out that direct questioning about the ‘felt sense’ is often difficult for interviewees because of ‘aesthetic muteness’ — an inability for organizational members to reframe ‘feeling’ to ‘thinking’, and an inability to recall aesthetic experience (Taylor, 2002). Initial interviews in the present study suggest that the instructors are able to articulate their emotional reactions to music, but often seemed to forget the music itself. Instructors could often not recall specific tracks – even their favourite ones — despite having performed them countless times. From a participants point of view, one author has found a similar experience. It is only by concentrating on remembering tracks, and writing them down after a class, that she has been able to recall them — they seem to drift off after they have been experienced. 14 It is sometimes more telling to examine what is excluded from a system, to reflect on the nature of what is included. In one session two women, both overweight and unfit, joined in a step session at the back. The instructor gave no low impact options and made no special effort to include these women in the session although they were so obviously outsiders (both were also Maori and this particular class was a very middle-class middle-aged suburban Pakeha group of women, mostly Step regulars). Early on in the session it became apparent the women were struggling and the instructor seemed quite impervious to their discomfort. She did not acknowledge them at all or give low options which she should have done. Class participants were very sympathetic to the situation and a couple of regulars moved their steps over to the women to attempt to show them low step options. This probably made the women very uncomfortable as mainly when you first join a class you just want to suffer in silence, without anyone noticing you. The instructor carried on regardless. After the class several regulars gave words of encouragement and advice to the women, assuring them it gets easier, but the women never returned to the class. This area of ‘exclusion’ is an important one to theorize. 15 Penaloza (1999) has pointed out in her visual ethnographic study of spectacular consumption at Nike Town that spectacular consumption is participative in nature, involves explicit knowledge of its production, and entails consumption of space and cultural meanings that involve hybrid architectural and environmental meaning-making. This meaning-making involves consumers engaging with architectural designs, interactions with inter-textual displays of celebrities, and corporate narratives at Nike Town. She argues that cultural meaning-making is made by both consumers and producers and crucially, she demonstrates that understanding the visual spectacle is essential if one is to understand the experience. Friedberg also has drawn attention to the phenomenon she calls the ‘virtual mobile gaze’, uncovering the ways that communication media has altered many sites of seeing providing viewing platforms for human action (Denzin, 1995; Friedberg, 1993).

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