Richard Prince doesn’t have to describe one of his paintings as a Rhino in Hot Pants Shouting, “Repent, Repent!” for it to be so.
Tom Waits on the “meanings” of his songs:
If you break open a song, you’ll find the eggs of other songs. Misunderstandings are really kind of an epidemic and acceptable. I think it’s about one thing, but someone else will say, ‘That song is kind of a rhino in hot pants on a burnt rocking horse with a lariat shouting, “Repent, repent!” I think that’s great.
Why do I bring up Waits rejoicing in the fact someone might hear one of his songs as a “kind of rhino in hot pants on a burnt rocking horse with a lariat shouting, “repent, repent!” Because the lawyer for Patrick Cariou believes that a work of art appropriating another work can only be interpreted to be sufficiently “transformative” of that earlier work if the appropriator expresses in words a transformative purpose. Richard Prince, in appropriating Patrick Cariou’s photographs for his own artistic purposes, said he had no real interest in the meaning behind Cariou’s work, and that he used it strictly as “raw material,” that it was “taking for the sake of taking.”
Cariou’s lawyer thinks that Prince’s inability to state an artistic purpose is fatal to his case. In his eyes, the law requires a 2-step process: “First the defendant has to say” he was engaged in a transformative use of the work he was appropriating. “Only then does the court go on to say, ‘Well let’s see if this is reasonably perceivable.’”
As I made clear yesterday, and as I think Tom Waits makes clear far more vividly, it seems absurd to limit the meaning of a work of art to whatever the artist might state it is. Nor is this particular controversial. The phrase “intentional fallacy” was coined in the title of an influential scholarly article (Wimsatt and Beardsley 1946) claiming that artists’ intentions are neither available nor desirable as a standard for assessing art. As has been pointed out, “Intentionalists disagreed, arguing that any sense of the artist’s intention, however obscure, can be a useful resource in interpreting a work of art.”
But the point is, even “Intentionalists” acknowledge that judging, interpreting, and assessing art calls on attention to the art and all it evokes in the eyes of the viewer. Those judgments, interpretations, and assessments are never limited to what the artist wanted the viewer to see and think.

So Cariou’s lawyer is advancing nonsense when he suggests the court should be limited in that way. Nor is the precedent for court reliance in making fair use decisions on the expressed intent of the appropriating artist particularly compelling support for that nonsense. It is true that in Blanch v. Koons the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2d Circuit relied on what Jeff Koons stated his purposes were in appropriating a photograph for use in one of his paintings. But there were no competing interpretations submitted to the court. As the court pointed out: “Koons asserts — and Blanch does not deny — that his purposes in using Blanch’s image are sharply different from Blanch’s goals in creating it.” Quite simply, the court was persuaded by Koons’ explanations. That the court was so persuaded does not mean, however, that the artist’s explanations are the only means by which the court could be persuaded.already stated their intent to parody. Nor, as Cariou’s lawyer contends, did a lower court find that 2 Live Crew’s re-working of Roy Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman” depended on 2 Live Crew’s assertion their song was a “parody.” In fact, the Court found that 2 Live Crew’s words parodied Orbison’s and remanded the case so a lower court might determine (a) whether there had been any negative economic impact on sales of Orbison’s song in the potential “derivative market” of rap cover versions, and (b) whether the quantity of musical elements taken from Orbison’s song were more than necessary to 2 Live Crew’s purposes. Campbell, 510 U.S. at 590-91. After remand, the case settled, and there were no further court hearings.
There are 2 other important points to be made here. First, the Supreme Court made clear that the extent to which 2 Live Crew had “parodied” Orbison’s song was hardly overwhelming and, to the extent it was, that parody was apparent in the perception of a listener, not in Luther Campbell’s stated purpose:
While we might not assign a high rank to the parodic element here, we think it fair to say that 2 Live Crew’s song reasonably could be perceived as commenting on the original or criticizing it, to some degree. 2 Live Crew juxtaposes the romantic musings of a man whose fantasy comes true, with degrading taunts, a bawdy demand for sex, and a sigh of relief from paternal responsibility. The later words can be taken as a comment on the naivete of the original of an earlier day, as a rejection of its sentiment that ignores the ugliness of street life and the debasement that it signifies. 510 U.S. at 583 (emphasis added).
Even more important, perhaps — given the widely held misconception that “transformative” uses are only those that comment directly upon the appropriated works — is the Court’s statement that if an appropriating work has no impact on the commercial market for the appropriated work the need to find that it comments upon or otherwise “parodies” the original correspondingly diminishes:
A parody that more loosely targets an original than the parody presented here may still be sufficiently aimed at an original work to come within our analysis of parody. If a parody whose wide dissemination in the market runs the risk of serving as a substitute for the original or licensed derivatives . . . it is more incumbent on one claiming fair use to establish the extent of transformation and the parody’s critical relationship to the original. By contrast, when there is little or no risk of market substitution, . . . taking parodic aim at an original is a less critical factor in the analysis, and looser forms of parody may be found to be fair use, as may satire with lesser justification for the borrowing than would otherwise be required. 510 U.S., n. 14.
You can be the judge. First, I am including the lyrics of Orbison’s song and 2 Live Crew’s (courtesy of the Copyright Website). The Supreme Court held that the latter were sufficiently transformative of the former to constitute fair use. Second, I am including a recording of 2 Live Crew’s song itself. Is the second a parody of the first? Or does it use the first as raw material to make express its own view of a woman?
Lyrics
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ADDENDUM: I am also embedding below the amicus brief filed by Google in Cariou v. Prince. It does a far better and more extensive job than I at explaining that a “transformative appropriation” need not at all be one that comments or criticizes the original:
Clay Shirky on why SOPA & PIPA won’t go away: the old media companies want to make it too expensive for you (artist, consumer, teacher, etc.) to use copies even in legitimate ways
An Introduction to Copyright, Fair Use, and Appropriation Art, Part 1
In September, I spoke at SPACES on copyright and art, an opportunity that I used to go introduce copyright and fair use and the contentious issues that remain entirely unresolved in connection with appropriation art. I had an opportunity to give a similar talk last week at Wooster College.
You can see my presentation here. But the presentation, obviously, is only the starting point of a talk, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to “annotate” the presentation, providing some commentary and a lot of links to provide most of the content of the talk here and to supplement it for those who were there.
This post constitutes the first part of these annotations. I will continue this supplement to the presentation in the near future.
The first “slide” (I used Prezi, not PowerPoint, for the first time in this talk) is a video by Kutiman, a musician, composer, producer and animator from Israel. He is best known for creating an online video music project entitled ThruYOU consisting of individual videos mixed entirely from samples of YouTube videos.
The second slide is the title slide: What does an artist need to know about copyright law? Although I spoke a lot about appropriation art and copyright law, I emphasized my sincere belief that to negotiate the difficulties posed by copyright law in an era of novel and breathtaking technologies requires the gifts of an artist. I used Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Can and Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster as 2 examples of what I was talking about in part because they encountered such different responses from the corporation from whom the artist appropriated his image. Warhol received an amusing and appreciative letter from Campbell’s Soup. Fairey was sued by the Associated Press, a lawsuit that was eventually settled and thus left unresolved the underlying legal questions.
The next 2 slides ask, “What is an artist?” and give one answer, provided by performance artist Guillermo Gómez Peña:
[T]he artist doesn’t really give answers. That is the role of the theorist, the scientist, the political activist, and the religious leader. The role of the artist is to ask impertinent and complex questions, irritating questions, and also to make the audience aware of the process of inquiry, and that’s where the pedagogical dimension lies—when the performance becomes the search, and when the process of search becomes the performance; and people see you struggling with meaning, with your own philosophical despair, with your political demons, and your own aesthetics.
Not only does this confrontation with questions that confront all of us strike me as central to the role of the artist; it also strikes me as central to the role of the lawyer. Moreover, one of the most difficult stumbling blocks in teaching law students is getting them over the belief that they will learn answers to the questions they will confront in their careers rather than the skill to identify the right questions and to best move forward in light of those questions.
Thus, the next 2 slides ask, “What is a lawyer?” and provide a quote from from Edward Levi, a legal scholar studied by first year law students when I went to law school but now largely neglected, to the effect that legal “rules” are not the sort of rules people typically expect:
[T]he rules change from case to case and are remade with each case. Yet this change in the rules is the indispensable dynamic quality of law. It occurs because the scope of a rule of law, and therefore its meaning, depends upon a determination of what facts will be considered similar to those present when the rule was first announced. The finding of similarity or difference is the key step in the legal process.
Lawyers then, like artists, must always be attentive to the similarities and differences that abound in the infinite complexity of human life. If you present me with a legal problem and an answer and then change one fact about the problem, the entire answer may change. Or may not. It depends. So if you’re looking for answers, you’ve come to the wrong place. Another situation is always different. But I can certainly let you in on what I deem important and why.
For the basic rules on copyright and fair use, the U.S. Copyright Office is a terrific starting point on all things copyright. If you are interested in knowing the basics about what you have to do to register a copyright and other nuts and bolts matters, go there. Stanford’s Copyright and Fair Use Center is also a great resource on all of the questions addressed in my talk. I like the Copyright Website too.
In order to be protected by copyright, a work must be, among other things, “original.” The quintessential illustration of this requirement — which emphasizes that the mere “sweat of the brow” invested by the work’s creator is not sufficient to earn the work copyright protection — is Feist Publications, Inc., v. Rural Telephone Service Co., 499 U.S. 340 (1991), in which the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the substantial work of compiling and organizing the information required to put together a rural telephone directory did not entitle the directory to copyright protection. The information itself, though the result of the plaintiff’s hard work, constituted “mere facts,” and there was nothing original about the alphabetical arrangement. Thus, the defendant could not be stopped from copying the plaintiff’s directory and selling it as his own.
A more recent example of this principle with some bearing on appropriation art is the case of Meshwerks v. Toyota Motor Sales, Inc. (10th Cir. 2008), in wich the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals dismissed the copyright infringement case brought against Toyota by Meshwerks, which had created digital models of Toyota cars for use in Toyota’s advertising. The digital models are useful because if the art director wants the position of car changed within a photo, the entire scene does not need to be re-shot. All one needs to do is move the digital model around on a computer screen within the digital photograph of the background.
The digital model, while the product of skill, resulted merely in the reproduction of a car. The image itself is nothing more than an image of a fact. While the court noted the obvious difficulties of applying existing law to new technologies, it compared the digital images of cars created by Meshwerks to photographs. Since the invention of photography in the 19th Century — when it was believed by some that photography as a mere transmission of “reality” did not constitute art — courts have concluded that photographs are entitled to copyright protection but only to the extent the photograph consists of elements resulting from the photographer’s choices. Thus, a photograph “is entitled to copyright solely based on lighting, angle, perspective, and the other ingredients that traditionally apply to that art-form.”
Decisions rendering the photograph a protectable “intellectual invention” included: the posing and arrangement of [the subject] “so as to present graceful outlines”; the selection and arrangement of background and accessories; the arrangement and disposition of light and shade; and the evocation of the desired expression. Courts today continue to hold that such decisions by the photographer–or, more precisely, the elements of photographs that result from these decisions–are worthy of copyright protection. See, e.g., Rogers v. Koons (“Elements of originality in a photograph may include posing the subjects, lighting, angle, selection of film and camera, evoking the desired expression, and almost any other variant involved.”) (citations omitted).
The digital image of the car that could be inserted and manipulated within a digital image was, in contrast, merely a reproduction of a car. It would only be when an art director placed it within an image that choices regarding lighting, angle, and other elements would be chosen. In contrast, in Time, Inc. v. Bernard Geis Associates, the court held that the famous “Zapruder film” was entitled to copyright protection. Abraham Zapruder, a Dallas dress manufacturer, had been taking home movie pictures with his camera, when, by sheer happenstance, he captured President Kennedy’s assassination on film. The court observed that “if Zapruder had made his pictures at a point in time before the shooting, he would clearly have been entitled to copyright.” The fact that the moment he filmed happened to be historic did not change that fact. And, if you’re interested, here’s another interesting photography case.
The fact that Congress has the power to pass laws protecting copyright is a result of the Constitution’s Copyright Clause. There are at least 2 important reasons the constitutional dimension of this power is important. First, the Copyright Clause expressly states that Congress has the power for the purpose of promoting innovation. Thus, to the extent copyright law inhibits innovation rather than promotion it, that law very may well be unconstitutional. In addition, copyright limits the ways people can express themselves and thus is a limitation on the freedom of expression protected by the First Amendment. Obviously, that freedom of expression is of supreme importance in our country. Thus, the conflict between the two constitutional rights — the right to protection of one’s creative product and the right of one to express oneself (even by means of another’s creative product) must be balanced. That balance is what results in the doctrine of fair use.
And adult approach to digitizing library holdings
I have long believed the copyright concerns that have hampered the digitization of library holdings are way overblown, especially in light of the value to be gained by digitizing the contents of libraries and making them available for research online. So it is gratifying to see that the libraries of Duke University, North Carolina Central University (NCCU), North Carolina State University (NCSU), and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (UNC) have issued a report — The Triangle Research Libraries Network’s Intellectual Property Rights Strategy for Digitization of Modern Manuscript Collections and Archival Records Groups (pdf) – that, as Library Journal describes it, “urges libraries to make large-scale special collections available online, even if some question about the copyright status of certain elements remains.”
The document sets forth a comprehensive strategy for addressing copyright concerns that digitization raises. It doesn’t shy, however, from asserting the legitimacy of the project as an exercise of fair use: “In the unlikely event that a TRLN member library is challenged on the presentation of the digitized collections/groups, and in the even more unlikely event that the library is unable to resolve those challenges…the library will rely on a fair use argument.”
And the document sets forth its fair use analysis clearly and concisely, addressing each of the factors of the 4-part fair use test as follows:
Fair use is a balancing test based on . . . four factors. The factors are not a list of requirements, and all four factors need not be met to have a successful fair use argument. Each factor as it might pertain to the CCC project’s selected manuscript collections and archival record groups is addressed below.
The purpose and character of the use
The CCC project is not for profit; the project’s purpose is to promote historical scholarship and support educational uses of primary sources by providing free and open online access to a large corpus of research materials: the digitized manuscript collections and archival record groups from the four libraries. Individual documents contained in the collections and groups may remain under copyright protection, but they are used in this project for research and educational purposes.
The character of the use is transformative. An individual document’s original use was temporally bound, its value practical. For example, at the time that any individual letter in the Frank Porter Graham papers was written, it served only to share information with Graham. But now that letter is part of a manuscript collection that contains more than one hundred thousand documents. And as with any individual item in a manuscript collection/archival record group, the document serves as a small part of a larger resource, one used in scholarly inquiry and education. The aggregation and organization of individual documents to create manuscript collections/archival record groups transform the purpose and function of the individual documents, as do the finding aids for these collections/groups, which also add to the research value. The digitization and online presentation of the documents in the collection/group further remove the individual document from its original purpose, and deepen its transformed purpose and use as a historical resource that contributes to our understanding of the past.
The nature of the copyrighted work
Most of the documents in the manuscript collections/archival record groups were created in the course of the daily life of an individual or in the routine business of an organization. Created without commercial motivation or artistic intent, these works were not meant for publication at the time of creation, and today are not publishable in isolation. The research value of manuscripts lies not with the individual document, but rather with the collection of documents that together provide context and insight into the past.
The amount and substantiality of the portion used
The presentation of entire documents and entire collections/record groups is therefore appropriate for the intended use by students, educators, and scholars. Individual documents in the collections/groups are the copyright?protected works; but the law does not specify a particular amount of a work that can be used without permission.
The educational and transformative purposes of the use require the presentation of the works in their entirety and so satisfy this factor.
The effect of the use upon the potential market
The scholarly research value and educational significance of these collections are incalculable, but their aggregated online presentation will have little to no effect on the market value of individual documents. In virtually all cases, no such market exists. In the rare instance in which an individual document has a commercial market, the downloadable digital images will not be of commercial quality and therefore will pose no threat to that market.
Would Shakespeare have survived the Internet? Scott Turow and the morality of propertizing creativity.
In the New York Times, Scott Turow, Paul Aiken, and James Shapiro ask whether Shakespeare would have survived the Internet:
The rise of the Internet has led to a view among many users and Web companies that copyright is a relic, suited only to the needs of out-of-step corporate behemoths. Just consider the dedicated “file-sharers” — actually, traffickers in stolen music movies and, increasingly, books — who transmit and receive copyrighted material without the slightest guilt.
They are abetted by a handful of law professors and other experts who have made careers of fashioning counterintuitive arguments holding that copyright impedes creativity and progress. Their theory is that if we severely weaken copyright protections, innovation will truly flourish. It’s a seductive thought, but it ignores centuries of scientific and technological progress based on the principle that a creative person should have some assurance of being rewarded for his innovative work.
There are a number of questions one might raise in response to Mr. Turow and his colleagues. For one, there are not many law professors other than the notoriously ineffective Charles Nesson who defend the legality of unauthorized file sharing. (To question the assumption that file sharing has a material impact on the music and publishing industries is, on the other hand, a different matter.) To conflate file sharing with tranformative appropriation in discussing copyright is the genuinely misleading rhetorical move. And Shakespeare may not be the best example to use in arguing that copyright and innovation necessarily go together. One might wonder, in fact, whether there really is such a thing as a sui generis artist, be that artist Shakespeare or Robert Johnson. Nor could one argue that there were no great artists and writers prior to the advent of what the Turow and his colleagues describe as “paywalls” around theaters or before copyright. Indeed, at least in certain markets the absence of copyright protection does indeed promote innovation. The very premise of Turow’s argument — that in the absence of the economic monopoly conferred by copyright creativity like Shakespeare’s simply won’t happen — is hardly indisputable.
Perhaps Judge Alex Kozinski, referencing Scott Turow of all people, put it best in dissenting from the 9th Circuit’s refusal to rehear en banc a case in which Vanna White successfully sued Samsung for violating her “right of publicity” by “appropriating” her “identity,” emphasizing that overprotecting intellectual property is as dangerous as underprotecting it (footnotes omitted):
Saddam Hussein wants to keep advertisers from using his picture in unflattering contexts. Clint Eastwood doesn’t want tabloids to write about him. Rudolf Valentino’s heirs want to control his film biography. The Girl Scouts don’t want their image soiled by association with certain activities. George Lucas wants to keep Strategic Defense Initiative fans from calling it “Star Wars.” Pepsico doesn’t want singers to use the word “Pepsi” in their songs. Guy Lombardo wants an exclusive property right to ads that show big bands playing on New Year’s Eve. Uri Geller thinks he should be paid for ads showing psychics bending metal through telekinesis. Paul Prudhomme, that household name, thinks the same about ads featuring corpulent bearded chefs. And scads of copyright holders see purple when their creations are made fun of.
Something very dangerous is going on here. Private property, including intellectual property, is essential to our way of life. It provides an incentive for investment and innovation; it stimulates the flourishing of our culture; it protects the moral entitlements of people to the fruits of their labors. But reducing too much to private property can be bad medicine. Private land, for instance, is far more useful if separated from other private land by public streets, roads and highways. Public parks, utility rights-of-way and sewers reduce the amount of land in private hands, but vastly enhance the value of the property that remains.
So too it is with intellectual property. Overprotecting intellectual property is as harmful as underprotecting it. Creativity is impossible without a rich public domain. Nothing today, likely nothing since we tamed fire, is genuinely new: Culture, like science and technology, grows by accretion, each new creator building on the works of those who came before. Overprotection stifles the very creative forces it’s supposed to nurture. . . .
But what does “evisceration” mean in intellectual property law? Intellectual property rights aren’t like some constitutional rights, absolute guarantees protected against all kinds of interference, subtle as well as blatant. They cast no penumbras, emit no emanations: The very point of intellectual property laws is that they protect only against certain specific kinds of appropriation. I can’t publish unauthorized copies of, say, Presumed Innocent; I can’t make a movie out of it. But I’m perfectly free to write a book about an idealistic young prosecutor on trial for a crime he didn’t commit. So what if I got the idea from Presumed Innocent? So what if it reminds readers of the original? Have I “eviscerated” Scott Turow’s intellectual property rights? Certainly not. All creators draw in part on the work of those who came before, referring to it, building on it, poking fun at it; we call this creativity, not piracy.
Turow and his colleagues are guilty, I think, of the “bad medicine” of “reducing too much to private property.” Perhaps Turow would describe me as a law professor advancing “counterintuitive” arguments, but he runs the risk of embodying (and profiting mightily from) a culture that has an unprecedented tendency to “propertize” everything it can and a blindness to the ways law cannot stem new practices made possible by technology. The inarguable truth is that the music and publishing industries once had virtual monopolies on the production and distribution of their products and that they no longer do. Those industries have largely reacted by trying to enforce a legal regime that grew up with and required the old means of production and distribution, which seems to me at least not the most productive way of promoting creativity.
Turow appears to be among the reactionaries trying to use the force of law to overcome reality. Last year he complained that publishers had made a mistake in making publishing e-book versions of writers’ works at the same time they published the book versions, agreeing with a publisher’s assertion that “there’s something radically wrong” when a market has the power to cause the value of a book to plummet. When the publisher expanded on the point by stating that “I want to be able to say that a new book by Scott Turow is worth $28, and people should be willing to pay that,” Turow agreed, justifying his entitlement to the price by arguing that “[t]here is nothing wrong with [copyright holders] maximizing their profits . . . . If we really want to have a robust literary culture, then we have to think about the compensation system.”
I would suggest to the publisher and Turow that there might not be anything wrong with maximizing profits but that there might indeed be something wrong with charging a price that reflects the costs of printing and distributing books when the market now can deliver a product that need not be printed and that can be delivered virtually for free.
What is “intuitive” to Turow and the point of view he represents is that your creations are as much your property as your car or your computer. But “intellectual property” is not property in the same way as personal or real property. The very source of our nation’s copyright laws, the Constitution’s Copyright Clause, makes clear that copyright law exists to promote invention and creativity, and to the extent it discourages invention and creativity it is unconstitutional. Nonetheless, Turow and many others cannot seem to overcome some “moral” conviction that to allow others to profit off of your creations is somehow to “steal” something from you. Again, Judge Kozinski in the Vanna White case quoted above, eloquently states the response to this “moral claim” (footnotes omitted; hyperlinks added):
Moreover, consider the moral dimension, about which the panel majority seems to have gotten so exercised. Saying Samsung “appropriated” something of White’s begs the question: Should White have the exclusive right to something as broad and amorphous as her “identity”? Samsung’s ad didn’t simply copy White’s schtick–like all parody, it created something new. True, Samsung did it to make money, but White does whatever she does to make money, too; the majority talks of “the difference between fun and profit,” 971 F.2d at 1401, but in the entertainment industry fun is profit. Why is Vanna White’s right to exclusive for-profit use of her persona–a persona that might not even be her own creation, but that of a writer, director or producer–superior to Samsung’s right to profit by creating its own inventions? Why should she have such absolute rights to control the conduct of others, unlimited by the idea-expression dichotomy or by the fair use doctrine?
To paraphrase only slightly Feist Publications, Inc. v. Rural Telephone Service Co., 499 U.S340], __, 111 S.Ct. 1282, 1289-90, 113 L.Ed.2d 358 (1991), it may seem unfair that much of the fruit of a creator’s labor may be used by others without compensation. But this is not some unforeseen byproduct of our intellectual property system; it is the system’s very essence. Intellectual property law assures authors the right to their original expression, but encourages others to build freely on the ideas that underlie it. This result is neither unfair nor unfortunate: It is the means by which intellectual property law advances the progress of science and art. We give authors certain exclusive rights, but in exchange we get a richer public domain. The majority ignores this wise teaching, and all of us are the poorer for it
There’s no such thing as a free sample? That’s ridiculous.
It’s arguments like those set forth in Curtis Smolar’s column, “There’s no such thing as a free sample,” that give the music industry and its advocates a bad name. He’s wrong — or, at the very least, more prescient than I, in concluding that “[t]here’s no such thing as a free sample.” As I’ve written about at length in the past, the music industry’s practice of requiring payment for any sample of recorded music was a self-interested decision by the music companies themselves in the wake of 2 court decisions, the legitimacy of which are subject to serious question, that are not controlling precedent in most of the country.
Smolar begins his column stating, “Just because something is commonplace doesn’t always mean it’s legal.” I would counter that with this: just because the record companies made a decision back in 1991 that they each would pay for permission to use recorded samples of each other’s music doesn’t mean that payment is required.
Smolar also seems to imply that because fair use is used as a defense to copyright claims and can be characterized as an “exception” to the real rule that any use of a copyrighted work constitutes infringement it somehow has little importance. One could just as easily characterize fair use in this way: Under the First Amendment to the Constitution, we can express ourselves any way we want, even in ways that “steal” your own forms of expression, unless there’s a good reason to stop us. In short, copyright is an exception to the foundational right to free expression.
But Smolar isn’t interested in being accurate — he appears interested only in scaring anyone off of unlicensed sampling. He and his ilk haven’t been too successful in that effort. But then why would he be successful in scaring people if he misrepresents the law as egregiously as he does when he states that “[sampling fails to meet each and every one of the four prongs of the" statutory elements courts consider in determining whether the use of copyrighted material constitutes fair use. It's a whole lot more complicated than that. First, of course, the four-part test does not call for an "either-or" determination on each factor. So it's just plain wrong to write "[t]he use must be for non-commercial purposes.” It’s not true either that “[t]he nature of the copyrighted must be in the public interest.” The mere fact someone samples the identifiable part of a song does not make the sampling an infringement either. Finally, Smolar states that sampling damages the market for the song from which the excerpt was taken “because the new song may be purchased for as much as the original.” I’m not sure what that means. He can’t possibly mean that if I get Girl Talk’s “Triple Double” I therefore wouldn’t buy “Steppin’ Out” by Joe Jackson. But all he might otherwise mean is that if Girl Talk’s songs are so good that people are willing to pay a lot of money for them (though they can get them for free), that can’t be right. The more the appropriation is valued in its own right, the more “transformative” it is and, therefore, the more likely it constitutes fair use.
But Smolar isn’t interested in the law. He’ just interested in scaring people into believing they’ll be sued by the record industry if they sample anything.
Addendum: For an good discussion of fair use and its complexities (in a context entirely divorced from music), see “Fair Use Controversy: The Gift That Keeps On Giving.”
Pissed off by Parody
Citizens Against Government Waste is one of those private, corporate-fed entities freed by the Citizens United decision to pour as much money as they want into political campaigns. It has produced an ad ridiculing stimulus spending by the government that promises to be the source of many a parody, including the one embedded below (which appears to be the first).
CAGW, however, believes this parody is a copyright violation and has sent YouTube a takedown notice. Campus Progress, which produced the video, disagrees:
Citizens Against Government Waste must have spent all their money on the video, and didn’t have any left over for legal advice. Our video is a parody, not a copyright violation. And we aren’t raising money off it. We’re only raising awareness and highlighting the concern of young people that corporate interests are drowning out their voices this fall.
Is Shepard Fairey entitled to a jury trial on fair use? Good authority says yes.
Quite plainly the question is a vexed one: does a defendant in a copyright infringement lawsuit have the right to have a jury decide whether his use of the copyrighted material constitutes non-infringing fair use as a “question of fact”? Or is the fair use defense a “question of law” that a judge can decide without a jury?
We may have that question decided early next year in the lawsuit between Shepard Fairey and the Associated Press over Fairey’s use of a copyrighted AP photo as the source of the image in Fairey’s Obama Hope Poster. Fairey has requested a jury trial.
But no less an authority than Bill Patry believes that the question is one for a jury and thus that Fairey’s defense to AP’s claim of infringement should be determined by a jury.
And now comes Christopher E. Meatto to point us to another authority pointing the same way: Professor Ned Snow has published “Untangling Fair Use as a Matter of Law.” In his abstract to the article, Snow writes:
Fair use is an issue of fact for the jury. Or at least it should be. Recently courts have been perverting the centuries-old practice of treating fair use as a factual issue. Courts must therefore repent: they must return to construing the issue as factual. Yet even if they do, the question remains whether courts should ever decide fair use as a matter of law. To answer this question, this Article examines whether appellate courts should ever review fair use decisions under a de novo standard. It also examines whether trial courts should ever decide fair use on summary judgment. The Article concludes that the speech nature of fair use necessitates deciding the issue as a matter of law in certain circumstances: appellate courts should review constitutional findings under a de novo standard, but only where a bench trial occurs or where a jury verdict favors the copyright holder; trial courts should rule on summary judgment, but only for fair users. In short, ruling as a matter of law must serve the speech-protective function of fair use. Fair use as a matter of law must favor fair users.
Cuckoo Kookabura Continues
The travesty continues — first, there was the court decision in Australia finding Men at Work liable for copyright infringement for appropriating a riff from the Australian chestnut Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree in their 1981 #1 hit Down Under. Now the judge has ordered the group to pay 5 percent of the royalties it earned from the song. I suppose it’s better than the 60% the publishing company that owns the copyright sought. Kookaburra, incidentally, was composed over 70 years ago, and its composer died 22 years ago. It doesn’t appear, in short, that the copyright here is serving to motivate creation; rather, it’s serving as a disincentive – Down Under stood on its own as an Australian anthem. As Wikipedia reports:
The song is a perennial favourite on Australian radio and television, and topped the charts in the U.S. and U.K. simultaneously in early 1983. It was later used as a theme song by the crew of Australia II in their successful bid to win the America’s Cup in 1983.[citation needed] Men at Work played this song in the closing ceremony of the 2000 Sydney Olympics, alongside other Australian artists. It was also often played after Australian athletes had received medals during competition, as they walked around the venue on a parade lap after the medal ceremony.
In May 2001, Australasian Performing Rights Association (APRA) celebrated its 75th anniversary by naming the Best Australian Songs of all time, as decided by a 100 strong industry panel, “Down Under” was ranked as the fourth song on the list.[5]
In October 2006, Triple M had the Essential 2006 Countdown of the most popular songs of all time, voted by the listeners. “Down Under” was the number 3 voted/ranked song.[citation needed]
The song was voted #96 on VH1′s 100 Greatest Songs of the 80s.[when?]
The song has been used as the entrance music for various professional Australian sportsmen, including darts player Simon Whitlock, cruiserweight boxer Danny Green (for his fight against Roy Jones, Jr. on 2 December 2009) and snooker player Neil Robertson.
The song was played extensively during the September 2009 One-Day International cricket series between England and Australia, which Australia took by six matches to one.
Moreover, as I’ve previously noted, the Sydney Morning Herald reported that “[t]he key, harmony, structure and rhythm of Down Under’s famous riff changed the sound of it so much that nobody – not the band, [the managing director of the company that owned the copyright to Kookaburra], or even five out of six [of the game show] panellists . . . noticed it until someone turned it into a quiz show question.”
And to the extent the riff is recognizable it is doing what a quotation does in a piece of art — using a culturally resonant symbol to sound that resonance.
At least Men at Work is going to appeal the decision.
Princeton values money-grubbing over open contribution to current political debate.
Whether or not it is merited, there is considerable political import being attributed to Elena Kagan’s college thesis, a study of the collapse of Socialism as a political movement in the U.S. in the early decades of the 20th Century. On the far right, the thesis is being touted as proof that “Elena Kagan is an open and avowed socialist.” Slightly less conclusory, the Weekly Standard acknowledges that “[o]bviously, one imagines that Kagan’s views have evolved significantly over the last three decades” since her work as an undergraduate, but asserts that “it’s certainly worth noting the radical roots of the nation’s top lawyer.”
What is this evidence of the “radical roots” of Elena Kagan’s thinking? In the conclusion of the 130 page undergraduate paper that describes the political dissolution of the organized socialist political movement in New York City during the first couple of decades of the 1900s — largely due to the conflicts the Socialists came into with the Communists — she wrote:
In our own times, a coherent socialist movement is nowhere to be found in the United States. Americans are more likely to speak of a golden past than of a golden future, of capitalism’s glories than of socialism’s greatness. Conformity overrides dissent; the desire to conserve has overwhelmed the urge to alter. Such a state of affairs cries out for explanation. Why, in a society by no means perfect, has a radical party never attained the status of a major political force? Why, in particular, did the socialist movement never become an alternative to the nation’s established parties? . . .
Through its own internal feuding, then, the [Socialist Party] exhausted itself forever and further reduced labor radicalism in New York to the position of marginality and insignificance from which it has never recovered. The story is a sad but also a chastening one for those who, more than half a century after socialism’s decline, still wish to change America. Radicals have often succumbed to the devastating bane of sectarianism; it is easier, after all, to fight one’s fellows than it is to battle an entrenched and powerful foe. Yet if the history of Local New York shows anything, it is that American radicals cannot afford to become their own worst enemies. In unity lies their only hope.
Ben Smith of Politico concludes that the thesis is written “from a general sympathetic position,” but that really what it all adds up to is her “practical minded conclusion” that “for those who . . . still wish to change America” the lesson is “[i]n unity lies their only hope.” Smith concludes that “if there is a takeaway for the Kagan of today, I think it’s that practical-minded conclusion, and the sense that she is, in the end — and like Obama — a very practical pol.”
Andrew Leonard takes an even more pro-Kagan view of the thesis, concluding that it proves her “a superb writer who grounds her argument in scrupulous attention to historical detail.” Leonard, while he may be over-inflating the importance of undergraduate work, at least recognizes that the thesis cannot be viewed as propaganda but, instead, involves a complicated history completely ignored by those who would reduce political debate to simplistic labels like “socialist” or “fascist” or “conservative” or “liberal.” The history Kagan addressed in her thesis involved the fight against the truly atrocious labor standards faced by U.S. factory workers, and to ignore that context and how far we’ve come would be to engage in stupidity. Leonard writes:
Kagan makes a pretty good case that sectarian bickering and factionalism doomed the Socialist Party to irrelevance. The leaders of the New York Socialist Party embraced a moderate, accommodationist approach to improving worker conditions that put them at odds with rank-and-file workers who tended to be more militant. This made it easy for Communist Party organizers to infiltrate the garment worker unions and challenge the Socialist Party leadership’s control. Ultimately, a disastrously mishandled strike destroyed the credibility of both the Socialist and Communist factions, and worker demands for better conditions were sublimated into Roosevelt’s New Deal.
It would be stupid to infer what I believe now from what I wrote as an Ivy League senior in 1981. Yes, I’m Kagan’s precise contemporary. It is also stupid to run fearfully under the cover of words like “socialism” and “radicalism” without understanding that the history of a century ago that Kagan did write about nearly 30 years ago involved fights against injustice in which almost everyone in this country today would side with the “socialists” and “radicals.” I don’t think we want to return to the days when labor in this country was treated the way labor is in, say, China today.
But perhaps the stupidest thing of all is this: as Techdirt reports, Princeton has asserted that distribution of the thesis infringes the university’s copyright in it and has demanded that it be taken down from sites that have posted it. ”The University is selling copies of her thesis, and apparently the commercial value just shot up:
It has been brought to my attention that you have posted Elena Kagan’s senior thesis online…. Copies provided by the Princeton University Archives are governed by U.S. Copyright Law and are for private individual use only. Any electronic distribution is prohibited, as noted on the first page of the copy that is on your website. Therefore I request that you remove it immediately before further action is taken.
Even assuming the newsworthiness of the thesis, its age, the youth and inexperience of its author and other factors do not make posting the thesis a non-infringing fair use, Princeton’s move is just stupid. One year ago, Princeton’s endowment was nearly $13 billion. Money-grubbing over a few bucks to be made on a new-found asset in the undergraduate work of a student from 30 years ago hardly seems a worthy of an institution that prides itself on conferring true genuine education to its student body and wisdom to the world.
Art builds on art, be it Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster or the re-tellings of myths and legends.
I have made clear, at length, my view that Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster is a legitimate, non-infringing fair use of the photo Fairey appropriated as its source material. But I think Fairey himself expresses well in this interview from The Knowledge the basis of that belief, that the very nature of a lot of art (and, I might argue, all art) is to build on and refer to pieces of the culture in which we live and that without the freedom to appropriate pieces of that culture in ways that don’t merely exploit the value the creators of those pieces themselves have built we will diminish our culture. Fairey explains:
“I do think that copyrights and intellectual property are important—it’s important to be able to keep people from making verbatim copies of a particular creation that could somehow hurt the creator. If I spend time conceiving and making a piece of art and somebody else sees that it has market value and replicates it in order to steal part of my market, then that’s not cool. But the way I make art—the way a lot of people make art—is as an extension of language and communication, where references are incredibly important. It’s about making a work that is inspired by something preexisting but changes it to have a new value and meaning that doesn’t in any way take away from the original—and, in fact, might provide the original with a second life or a new audience.”
He goes on to explain, in terms that are very personal to me, the implications of an alternative view, often referred to as a position in favor of “strong” copyright protection”:
“The problem with copyright enforcement is that when the parameters aren’t incredibly well defined, it means big corporations, who have deeper pockets and better lawyers, can bully people. I don’t want to start making enemies in the corporate world, but there are plenty of cases. For example, there is a tradition of certain fairy tales being reinterpreted, and now, all of a sudden, a big corporation that has a mouse on its logo decides it’s going to copyright these fairy tales, which ends the cycle of these things being reinterpreted. What happens with these big entertainment companies is that they start to get a monopoly on the creation of culture. But I think that the more people participate in the creation of culture, the richer the culture becomes. In the case of the Obama poster, I was just exercising my First Amendment rights—and my free speech is exercised visually. People who want to talk or write in order to share an opinion about Obama can do that, but when I want to say what I think about him, I need to make a portrait. And if I can’t make a picture based on a reference because all references are copyrighted, then my only options are to pay a licensing fee—and possibly be turned down because the person licensing the image doesn’t agree with my political viewpoint—or to try to get a personal sitting with Barack Obama to make a portrait of him, which presents its own obstacles. So I don’t think all this is good for free speech.”
This is a personal matter because my sister, Amy Friedman, writer and teacher extordinaire, has for twenty years written on a weekly basis versions of fairy tales, folk tales, and legends from around the world and throughout history, an enormous corpus of work that is syndicated by Universal Press Syndicates under the name Tell me a Story (entire archive available). Needless to say, copyright concerns throughout this decades long endeavor, only one of many in which she engages, have been foremost in her mind, but there has never been any doubt either that her stories, while based on pre-existing creations from as many cultures and as many times as are virtually conceivable, are legitimate art in their own right and, therefore, enjoy their own copyright protection.
Amy’s story is important in another way. Not only would the Disney’s of the world co-opt the subject matter she makes her own, but she also is an artist in the truest sense. She is not a best-selling author. No one I’ve ever known works harder, and working at making a living as a writer, as she always has, is as difficult a task as one would wish upon a sister. She doesn’t depend on her copyrights to make her living — she depends on delivering a product that consumers want, whether they be students or parents who want wonderful audio stories for their kids. People like Mark Halperin, rich best-selling author and conservative pundit, , who bitch about copyright protection don’t know what they’re talking about. They live in an age in which digital information can be remixed and distributed worldwide by anyone with a laptop and an internet connection, an age in which their views of authorship and artistic production are, in a word, outmoded. The real artists are people like Amy, who eke out a living (one whose comfort level she expresses no complaints about).
Will the film, music, and publishing industries oppose Kagan’s nomination?
It will be interesting to see whether the film, music, and publishing industries generate or fund any opposition to Elena Kagan’s nomination to the Supreme Court. As the Hollywood Reporter states, the entertainment industry’s “worry about Kagan might be her philosophy on intellectual property matters. As dean of Harvard Law School from 2003 to 2009, she was instrumental in beefing up the school’s Berkman Center for Internet & Society by recruiting Lawrence Lessig and others who take a strongly liberal position on ‘fair use’ in copyright disputes.” Later, as Obama’s Solicitor General, she successfully argued against Supreme Court review of a 2d Circuit decision, opposed by the entertainment industry, that allowed Cablevision subscribers to store television programs they had recorded on the cable providers servers rather than on the subscribers’ own, in-home boxes. In the brief she filed in the Supreme Court opposing review, she emphasized the importance to the decision of fair use principles. The parties to the lawsuit had decided that fair use should not be considered in the case. Kagan therefore therefore argued that the case was not an appropriate vehicle for Supreme Court review of the issues raised by Cablevision’s actions:
When a subscriber engages in time shifting, recording the program and playing it back are two sides of the same coin. If fair-use principles would excuse a cable company from liability for unauthorized reproduction when an RS-DVR system copies and stores a program on a hard disk at a subscriber’s behest, the same principles might excuse the company from liability for unauthorized public performance when the system transmits the program to the subscriber for playback. Here too, the parties’ agreement to litigate the case without reference to fair-use principles has elevated to great importance a question that otherwise might have been insignificant. Brief for the U.S. in Cable News Network, Inc. v. C.S.C. Holdings at 14 (footnote omitted).
Challenging automated YouTube takedowns (and don’t forget to think through the ramifications)
Chris Walters at The Consumerist provides an excellent account of the whys and wherefores of takedowns of YouTube videos. In addition to explaining why YouTube’s automated Content ID tracking system results in the kind of baseless deletions I referred to the other day, Walters also explains that “[Y]ou can dispute any Content ID claim. If you have a clip that’s been targeted, you’ll see a notice about it on your YouTube account page. From there you can access a dispute page where you can affirm that you believe your clip falls under fair use, and the clip will immediately become public again. The copyright holder will receive notice that you’ve disputed the clip, and must then decide to leave you alone, send a DMCA takedown notice, or sue.”
Importantly, too, he explains that you want to give some thought to the ramifications of disputing an automated takedown: “There are legal ramifications to this, which YouTube hints at and the EFF explains very clearly. If you decide to fight copyright abuse by a large company, you should make sure that you’re on the right side of the fight, that you have a sensible chance of winning a possible lawsuit, and that you’re willing to assume the financial risk. All three of those determinations probably require some serious meetings with a lawyer.”
On the other hand, any copyright owner sending a takedown notice ought to consider the legal ramifications of doing so, since a baseless one relying on the power to outspend an individual fair use claimant might have its own legal downside.
The Copyright Police find out there are Hitler Parodies.
YouTube has recently begun removing videos that feature content from Constantin Films’ 2004 film, “Der Untergang” (“Downfall”), despite the fact that many of these videos are parodies and thus constitute fair use of the material.
This video says it all:
I’m sorry to report to lawyers and law students this version has been taken down:
Why has Girl Talk not been sued? You won’t find the answer at SXSW.
You might think that the expert-filled session at the SXSW Festival on “Why the Recording Industry Hasn’t Sued Girl Talk?” and the Texas Observer’s reporting on the session might come up with more profound (and unfounded) statements than the Observer’s unqualified declaration that ‘[T]he totally fascinating upshot of all this is that it turns out that what Girl Talk is doing is definitely NOT legal.”
But why should a bunch of critics and experts who feel they’re at the center of the music universe down in Austin Texas put more thought into the issue than that? Any regular reader of this blog (and many less-than-regular readers) know that I have written extensively on why I believe Girl Talk has not been sued. And it’s not because what Girl Talk is doing “is definitely NOT legal.” One might wonder too why the legal and music experts at SXSW think the legal regime that requires a license for any recorded sample, no matter now brief, is as well-founded in the actual law as they seem to assume.
The Korean War Memorial Postage Stamp Photo Case: I was way wrong! But I still think I was right, and I think the case is bad for art.


Consider me dumbfounded, or just plain dumb. I thought the copyright infringement case brought by the sculptor of the Korean War War Veterans Memorial (above, left) against the U.S. Postal Service for the use of the memorial’s image in a postage stamp (above, right) was an “easy case” — that the stamp constituted fair use of the image of the memorial because, among other things, I thought the image was sufficiently “transformative” of the memorial itself to constitute a creative work in its own right.
But today, in Gaylord v. U.S. (pdf),the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit reversed the lower court’s holding and ruled that the stamp infringed the sculptor’s copyright in the memorial (pdf). Whereas I thought the image on the stamp was transformative because, among other things, I wouldn’t have even known it was an image of a sculpture rather than a stylized image of actual soldiers unless I’d read otherwise, the court held that the purpose and character of the image on the postage stamp and the purpose and character of the sculpture were identical: “to honor veterans of the Korean War.” Slip op. at 9. The court rejected the reasoning I had advanced, reasoning as follows:
Although the stamp altered the appearance of The Column by adding snow and muting the color, these alterations do not impart a different character to the work. To the extent that the stamp has a surreal character, The Column and its soldiers themselves contribute to that character. Indeed, the Penn State Team suggested that the Memorial have a “dream-like presence of ghostly figures.” Capturing The Column on a cold morning after a snowstorm—rather than on a warm sunny day—does not transform its character, meaning, or message. Slip Op. at 11.
I am stunned, and I find the court’s limitation of of “transformative” work to work that “comments on or criticizes” the work it appropriates without real rationale, but the odds are long the case will end up before the U.S. Supreme Court. It might be a good case for the Supreme Court to weigh in on — the ease and low cost of copying and disseminating images in this day and age makes any and every sort of appropriation art a contentious and wide open field, but I suspect the Supreme Court would prefer to let these issues simmer in the lower courts for some time before it chooses to weigh in on the question. In the mean time, I have to bow in humility to Donn Zaretsky, with whom I engaged in an online debate last summer on this particular case in particular and on the issue of the photographic appropriation of public art in particular. Donn was right, and I was wrong. I suspect, though, that this isn’t the last word we’ll hear on this type of case.
Addendum: The more I think about the decision in Gaylord, the more wrong-headed I believe it is, and the more I think it falls prey to a dangerous proclivity to commercialize every last aspect of our culture, including art. To limit “transformative” uses of copyrighted materials to uses that comment upon or criticize the copyrighted works they appropriate is to eliminate the use of the kind of appropriation as source material that is the very foundation of art. Copyrighted art works become part of the cultural language. A work that has impact in a culture takes on a meaning of its own. That cultural meaning then becomes part of the language of art, and as a part of that language it then has meaning that can be used in the sorts of compressed and symbolic ways that art needs to use in order to be art. To remove copyrighted works from this language in the absence of payment for their use would substantially damage our culture. By the time a work of art becomes available for the free use of other artists as part of the public domain — the duration of the artist’s life plus 70 years — it no longer will have any resonance worth exploiting.
Moreover, it is, I think, strange that the court in Gaylord reasoned that the photograph of the sculpture was not sufficiently original in its own right to be transformative despite what I referred to above — the fact that one would not likely even spot that the photo was of the the memorial, much less a sculpture — because that character of the photo was merely the product of the fact the photo was shot on a snowy day:
To the extent that the stamp has a surreal character, The Column and its soldiers themselves contribute to that character. Indeed, the Penn State Team suggested that the Memorial have a “dream-like presence of ghostly figures.” Capturing The Column on a cold morning after a snowstorm—rather than on a warm sunny day—does not transform its character, meaning, or message. Nature’s decision to snow cannot deprive Mr. Gaylord of an otherwise valid right to exclude. Slip op. at 11.
This reasoning is strange because, as I have pointed out before, photography itself is protected by copyright as “original” — rather than being rejected as mere transmission of the “facts” it conveys — precisely to the extent it reflects the photographer’s choices regarding the framing of the image, the choice of background and lighting, and the resulting mood:
Decisions rendering the photograph a protectable “intellectual invention” included: the posing and arrangement of [the subject] “so as to present graceful outlines”; the selection and arrangement of background and accessories; the arrangement and disposition of light and shade; and the evocation of the desired expression. Courts today continue to hold that such decisions by the photographer–or, more precisely, the elements of photographs that result from these decisions–are worthy of copyright protection. See, e.g., Rogers v. Koons (”Elements of originality in a photograph may include posing the subjects, lighting, angle, selection of film and camera, evoking the desired expression, and almost any other variant involved.”) (citations omitted). Meshwerks v. Toyotoa Motor Sales, Inc. ( 10th Cir. 2008).
I am not sure how one reconciles the idea that photography constitutes original work entitled to copyright protection with the notion that the elements of the art that give it originality — the elements that are the result of the artist’s choice — are merely “nature’s decision” and therefore not an element that make a work sufficiently original to be entitled to stand on its own without paying its way. I also think that the decision is vacuous as an artistic matter.
Finally, the decision plainly has significance with respect to the claim by the Associated Press that Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster infringed Manny Garcia’s photo of then-candidate Obama. I have stated again and again that I think the Hope poster is a non-infringing fair use primarily because of the way it transforms the photo and stands on its own as a creative work. It was many, many months before anyone even identified which photo was Fairey’s source material; even Garcia himself, despite seeing the poster again and again during those months, did not recognize that the poster was derived from his own photo! But there’s no doubt in my mind that the poster does not constitute a comment or criticism of the photo. Under the Federal Circuit’s reasoning, therefore, Fairey’s poster infringes the photo’s copyright. Fortunately, however, the Federal Circuit’s decision is not binding on the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York, where AP v. Fairey is pending, so that court will be left to its own judgment as to the scope of appropriation art will be permitted in this age of digital copying and transmission.
Here’s hoping, on my part, that the court in that case comes to a different decision. Art is a language that draws on and builds from itself. To reduce the language’s components to commodities would be to commercialize one more part of our lives, monetize one of the few things we have left that have not been reduced to the equivalent of cold cash.

Second Addendum: John E. Grant has a very interesting take on the Gaylord decision – he reads the decision as one that focuses on the stamp rather than the photo the stamp consists of:
In reversing the lower court decision, a 2-1 appellate majority ruled that the trial judge was wrong to focus on the transformative aspects of the photograph. Instead, it held that it must analyze the purpose and character of the stamp. The appellate majority then found that the purpose of the stamp was the same as the purpose of the sculpture: to honor Korean War veterans.
It’s an interesting thought, but I’m not sure I entirely buy it. If the photo itself was fair use, then I do not understand why the photographer did not have the right to license the use of that photo to the government for use on the postage stamp. Further, as Grant acknowledges and as I pointed out above, the court reasoned that although the image on the stamp “altered the appearance of the sculpture, . . . the alterations [were attributable] to mother nature, not the photographer and . . . ’nature’s decision to snow cannot deprive Mr. Gaylord of an otherwise valid right’ to his copyright.” Again, I cannot understand why the very elements that constitute the creative elements of a photograph can in this fair use analysis be passed off as merely “nature’s decisions.”
Photographing public art: a persistent fair use problem
I have a friend, a sculptor, who has sold several of his pieces as public art. He laughs at the idea that he could somehow recover more money than he has already received for any use the public makes of his sculptures. And he’ll soon be a lawyer. The way he figures it, he’s sold unlimited public use of the art for whatever uses the public will make of it — even money-making uses.
But his view is a generous one. Often the creators of public art will pursue anyone who uses images of their public art under the copyright laws. To my mind, it’s one more of an infinite number of manifestations of our collective obsession with converting everything we can into a marketable commodity. Nevertheless, the efforts of artists to restrict others from making and using images of their public art is far from frivolous. Donn Zaretsky and I had a couple of go rounds last year in connection with the use on a postage stamp of a photograph of the Korean War Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. I am still convinced that the postage stamp in that case makes fair use of the image of the memorial, but we’ll have to wait and see whether my conviction that it isn’t even a close case is vindicated.
But now from the Citizens Media Law Project comes word of a similar, and perhaps more difficult, case, from Seattle, where photographer Mike Hipple is being sued by sculptor Jack Mackie over the photo Hipple took about 10 years ago of a woman standing near the “Dance Steps on Broadway” sculpture in Seattle’s Capitol Hill. As the Citizens Media Law Project explains:
The lawsuit has outraged scores of residents who find Mackie to be out of step with the public’s interest. Mackie installed the eight sets of inlaid bronze shoe prints, mapping out well-known dances such as the waltz and rumba, in 1982 when the city rebuilt the neighborhood’s sidewalks. Despite receiving public financing for the project, Mackie retained rights to the artwork. Those rights, according to § 106 of the U.S. Copyright Act, include the exclusive right to reproduce the work or to create derivative work from it.
Finally, I agree with the following sentiments: “any scheme that involves paying to photograph seems antithetical to the public interest. The most reasonable solution is to keep public artwork completely open to the public. Until cities do this, however, commercial photographers may want to think twice about incorporating public artwork into their photographs.”
Nevertheless, I also agree with Hipple that the photo constitutes fair use of the sculptures image? Why? Because the photo stands on its own as a creative work. Hipple has taken a work embedded in a sidewalk in front of a public building and made it into a beautiful image that evokes both dance and confusion in a world full of complicated instructions seemingly sending us in a myriad of different directions. I don’t know how often I can say it: art builds on art. Culture builds on culture. And the sooner we ease up on our madness to monetize everything the sooner we’ll be sane.
Cuckoo Kookabura — Culture as the Language of Art
I wrote in November of the claim by the owners of the copyright in the Australian chestnut Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree that Men at Work had infringed Kookabura‘s copyright in their 1981 #1 hit Men Down Under. The claim is ridiculous. As the Sydney Morning Herald reported at the time, “[t]he key, harmony, structure and rhythm of Down Under’s famous riff changed the sound of it so much that nobody – not the band, [the managing director of the company that owned the copyright to Kookaburra], or even five out of six [of the game show] panellists . . . noticed it until someone turned it into a quiz show question.”
But now, as Celebrity Justice (among others) reports, “[a]fter a 3 year fight, a federal court in Australia has ruled against favorite sons Men At Work saying they plagiarized one portion of the Kookaburra tune and will now owe some of their royalties to the publishing group who bought the rights to that song in 1990.”
As CNN reports, the judge in his decision wrote that “I would emphasise that the findings I have made do not amount to a finding that the flute riff is a substantial part of Down Under or that it is the ‘hook’ of that song.”
Whether the judge’s decision will withstand appeal under Australian copyright law is beyond my expertise, but the suggestion that the quotation of a copyrighted song in a new work constitutes copyright infringement would make a travesty of the notion of fair use under U.S. law. My zealousness on this question is not merely the result of the argument that I made in my November post — that the “transformative” nature of Men Down Under is proven by the way it alters the melody it takes from Kookabura and the failure of anyone to recognize the borrowing for 29 years. It is also because that being able to “quote” works that have resonance and meaning in our culture is fundamental to artistic creation. Kookabura is fundamental to Men Down Under as a song because Men Down Under, from its title to its performers to its lyric to its video is about Australia, and the use of a musical phrase from Kookabura is as resonant a way to convey Australia as there is.
Instead of recognizing what Lewis Hyde calls the “Cultural Commons,” many people have the knee-jerk impulse people have to identify cultural creations as “property” and thereby equate them to real estate or cars or something. Beside the rather large fact that property rights are limited in all sorts of ways in order to advance social goals (you can’t have a pig farm in the middle of a suburb, you can’t paint your house fuschia in most places, and the government can take your property if it pays you a fair (and rather low) price for it, etc.), that knee-jerk reaction entirely ignores how cultural creations draw (and must draw) on existing cultural creations, and how those creations then achieve meaning in the social sphere and are used to convey meaning in the social sphere. Copyright exists to feed, not hinder, creation, and the sooner we under what creativity really involves the more creative a culture we’ll have.
You be the judge: are Men at Work plagiarists or composers?
Archers Daniel Midland abuses copyright law to censor criticism — corporations have the right to free speech, but not the people who criticize them?
Some corporations apparently believe in free speech for themselves but not for individuals. The first video below is a deadly dull piece of propagandistic pap in which Patricia A. Woertz, Chairman, President and CEO of Archer Daniels Midland (ADM), USA drones on (someone get her better training for dealing with the media!) about ADM’s profound importance to feeding the world. The piece was produced in advance of the recent Annual Meeting of the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.
ADM has, top it mildly, been the subject of considerable ire, criticism, and even criminal prosecution for price fixing (the subject of Matt Damon’s recent film The Informant and Fair Fight in the Marketplace, an excerpt of which appears below’s Woertz’s blathering), political corruption, destruction of the rainforests, and the forced labor of children.
A couple of days ago I posted on my Facebook page what I thought was a hilarious edit of the Woertz video in which some of her original words were retained and many were dubbed over to make it appear as if she were speaking openly on behalf of an evil multinational bent on the gross and horrific exploitation of the world and especially of multinational food markets. I thought it was hilarious piece of political critique. No one could have mistaken it as an “official” ADM production, but plainly it hit a nerve at ADM.
Today I noticed that when I click on the video on my Facebook profile a message appears that it is “no longer available due to a copyright claim by Archers Daniel Midland Company” and that if I click through to YouTube there’s no page for the video at all, not even a page with the same empty video box and takedown message.
This is outright copyright abuse. Criticism is fair use. When anyone asks whether in fact fair use is grounded in the Constitution’s guarantee of free speech, all you need is to think of a situation like this — one can appropriate copyrighted works to criticize and parody the copyright holder. And to use the copyright laws to silence that critique has nothing to do with protecting intellectual property and the rights of a creator to profit from his, her, or its creation: it’s unconstitutional censorship! (Peter Bouchard wrote a good summary yesterday on ” The Battle against Bogus Takedowns, a topic I’ve touched on in the past.”
AP shoots itself (twice) in the Copyright Wars.
The Associated Press occupies a controversial place in the so-called “Copyright Wars,” and it certainly isn’t making many friends anywhere in recent news. First, on December 31 of last year, AP filed its Amended Answer to Complaints, Crossclaim, Counterclaim., and a cross claim against Mannie Garcia. In that document, AP contends that it, not Garcia, owns the copyright in the photograph Garcia took of then candidate Obama that Shepard Fairey subsequently used as the source material for the (in)famous Hope poster. AP’s contention rests on the assertion that Garcia was acting within his the scope of his duties as a staff photographer for AP when he shot the photo and that it therefore constituted a “work for hire.”
There are, I think, two sets of allegations in AP’s latest filing that are interesting in terms of whether Fairey’s use of the photograph as source material for the poster constituted a non-infringing fair use. First, AP states that Garcia was sent to the event at which he shot the photo by AP in order to take photos such as the disputed one. Second, AP states that Garcia sent “several” of those photos to AP and that AP chose the photo it decided ultimately to publish. One might think these allegations reduce the extent to which Garcia can claim the shot was one so much of his own choosing. He was assigned to take the shots he took, he took a lot of them, and AP, not Garcia, chose the one that fit its purposes best.
AP also goes right after Garcia, accusing him in its counter-claim of committing fraud in registering his own copyright in the photo on the grounds that AP’s ownership of that copyright under the work for hire doctrine was so plain that Garcia knew he at the time he filed the copyright registration that he wasn’t entitled to do so. It might not be the only accusation of dishonesty hurled at Garcia in this case.
Meanwhile, AP, of course, has been quite vocal about voicing its contention that “news aggregators” infringe AP’s copyrights on a regular basis. No matter your view on the legitimacy of the infringement claim, there’s lots of reason to believe that AP’s stance is bad business. Google seems to have been a principal target of AP’s complaints, and yet shutting Google off (something, incidentally, AP could do at any time) would seem likely to drive traffic away from AP’s stories.
Well, Google seems to have called AP’s bluff. The Guardian reports that “it has become apparent that new Associated Press stories are no longer appearing on the site, which has hosted them since 2007. Google hasn’t added new AP content since December 24.“