Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘no phones’

Photo: Stefano Giovannini for N.Y.Post.
A reading party in New York. No phones.

I often wonder why anyone agrees to get notifications on their mobile phones. To me, it feels like some sort of conspiracy to keep us all from ever finishing a thought. That’s why I love hearing about people who have said “enough already” to cellphones, at least for a fewer hours a day.

Today’s story is from the Netherlands, and Orla Barry covers it at the radio show The World.

“Saliha Gündüz, a PhD student from Turkey, has just handed over her smartphone to one of the founders of The Offline Club in Amsterdam, who places it carefully in a ‘phone hotel’ — essentially a locker with dividers that holds up to 60 phones.

“Gündüz said she doesn’t feel apprehensive yet — and she settled down to a cup of herbal tea at the New Yoga School cafe in the center of Amsterdam.

“ ‘The withdrawal symptoms will kick in later,’ she said. ‘But maybe a withdrawal is what’s needed if I’m going to cure myself of my addiction.’ …

“Gündüz is among 20 people of all ages and nationalities who turned up at The Offline Club on a wet Friday evening in May to see if they could wean themselves off of their addiction.

“The club’s founders — Ilya Kneppelhout, Valentijn Klok and Jordy van Bennekom — started the venture in 2022 with a plan to host offline weekend getaways. Kneppelhout said, at the time, each of the co-founders felt their phones had been dominating their lives.

“Earlier that year, he took a short trip to the north of the Netherlands on his own with ‘some books, a journal and myself.’ No phone. He said something shifted over those four days.

“ ‘I felt so much creativity and, at the same time, a sense of peace.’

“Van Bennekom did the same and loved it. They began organizing weekend getaways with groups in a house in the countryside. Everyone was required to hand over their phones upon arrival. The three-day events were a hit. But Kneppelhout said that not everyone can afford to pay a few hundred dollars for the experience. So, the idea of The Offline Club was born.

“Each attendee at the club pays around $8 at the door. The events and venues differ each time. At the New Yoga School in Amsterdam, van Bennekom lays out the rules for the evening.

“First, there’s 45 minutes of quiet time, then a 30-minute break to chat, then a further 30 minutes of time to yourself. Most people bring books to read. Soft music plays in the background as van Bennekom lays out coloring books and markers for anyone who wants to draw or doodle.

“On that rainy Friday, three men from Puglia in Italy were huddled in one corner drinking tea. Two of them were visiting their friend Pietro Maggi who lives in Amsterdam. Maggi, who works for electric carmaker Tesla, said the evening was his idea and that he persuaded his two visitors to join him. …

“[Damiano Caforio admits] ‘I keep looking at the news constantly, checking to see what’s going on in the world, or, more specifically, with my job.’ He works at the Italian Chamber of Commerce.

“ ‘I need to know what’s going on, I feel I need to control the environment. … Actually, I desperately need this experience tonight,’ he laughed. …

“Leah Davies from Wales said she spotted a post about The Offline Club on Instagram.

“ ‘I saw people reading books and knitting and playing piano,’ she said. ‘And I just loved the idea of being able to go somewhere where you’re not checking your phone all night.’ …

“Davies said she would like to see phones restricted at other events too, like concerts and nightclubs, ‘so people can just dance or talk like you did in the ‘90s.’

“Phone-free music events are already happening elsewhere in the Netherlands. In Tilburg, a city in the south of the country, another group, Off the Radar, organizes music gigs where attendees are expected to hand in their devices at the door.

“There isn’t anything quintessentially Dutch about the desire to have smartphone-free events, said Ilya Kneppelhout, co-founder of The Offline Club. But work-life balance is an important aspect of life in the Netherlands. …

A study by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) found only 0.3% of employees in the Netherlands work very long hours in paid work, the lowest rate in the OECD, where the average is 10%. In January, smartphones were banned in secondary schools across the country under government guidelines.

“A similar ban is set to be introduced in Dutch primary schools in the 2024-25 school year. A study last month by Radboud University in the Netherlands found that students were generally positive about the change, saying breaks were more enjoyable and there was less bullying during school hours.”

More at The World, here. No firewall. See my earlier post on the new book-reading parties, here.

Read Full Post »

Photo: Stefano Giovannini for N.Y.Post.
Reading Rhythms is ‘not a book club’ but ‘a reading party,’ says the NY Post, ‘where about 60 to 80 bookworms gather to read” in company — not all the same book, just whatever they happen to be reading.

Here’s an idea whose time has come: gatherings where people who love reading read whatever they like in the same place at the same time and maybe take a few breaks to socialize. It’s called a “reading party,” and the foursome behind the concept calls themselves Reading Rhythms.

Molly Young writes at the New York Times, “On a cold Monday in December, 65 people were gathered for Reading Rhythms, an event that bills itself as ‘not a book club’ but ‘a reading party.’ The parties, which began in May, take place on rooftops, in parks and at bars. The premise is simple: Show up with a book, commit to vanquishing a chapter or two and chat with strangers about what you’ve just read.

“The attendees that night, each of whom had paid a $10 entry fee, were the lucky ones: 270 people were on the wait-list to get in. …

“The idea for Reading Rhythms emerged when four friends in their 20s — Ben Bradbury, Charlotte Jackson, John Lifrieri and Tom Worcester — discovered a shared sense of alarm over the deterioration of their book consumption. The causes were what you’d expect: annihilated attention spans, too much socializing, the treacherous enchantments of the iPhone.

“Bradbury and Worcester, who are roommates, hosted the first event on their rooftop. A playlist was compiled, 10 friends showed up with books, everyone read for a bit and talked about what they’d read, and then … went home.

” ‘I got an hour of reading done and I hung out with some of my best friends, which I’d wanted to do anyway,’ [Bradbury] said. ‘That doesn’t usually happen.’ …

“The four solidified a format, gave the series a name, planned additional parties, opened up the invite list and started an Instagram account. Since May there have been parties in New York, Los Angeles and (of all places) Croatia. …

“At the event this month, none of the guests seemed to operate under the illusion that they’d reinvented any wheels. And ‘glorified library’ actually described the ambience well: Seating included antique armchairs, deep sofas and velvety settees; flickering votive candles emitted an amber glow; hot toddies and beer were available. …

“As the founders continued to host parties, they settled upon a structure. Attendees are given a name tag and half an hour to find a seat and settle in. A host then gets up before the crowd and explains the night’s schedule: 30 minutes of reading, a break, 30 more minutes of reading and then a set of discussions organized around loose prompts. Parties are held early in the week to capture gentle, non-weekend energy.

“Lifrieri, one of the founders, suggested everyone pluck an idea from what we’d just read and ‘turn to a stranger’ to discuss. An icy dart of trepidation shot through my body at the command, but to a stranger I turned: Dilvan, 29, who was reading Michael A. Singer’s The Untethered Soul.

“Dilvan shared a paragraph that she’d highlighted and we discussed its implications, which turned out to be mutually troubling. Conversation turned to other topics: Dilvan had moved to the United States from Turkey for college, specifically to study in ‘a cold location’ featuring snow. The idea of weather-based school selection was fascinating to me. Dilvan landed in Minnesota, which satisfied her temperature requirements and also prompted her to learn English rapidly thanks to the absence of other Turks in the area. …

“Reading postures varied. Some attendees sat cross-legged with a book resting lapwise. Others were curled up on a sofa. Many adopted a modified ‘The Thinker’ position. One man read his book standing ramrod straight, like a marsh bird. Not once did a cellphone chime.

More at the Times, here, and at Reading Rhythms, here.

Read Full Post »