Personally, I am not really all that concerned with the stern criticism vs. poetic pandering battle. That doesn't really have that much to do with the Sphere's decline in my view. What I see is that the place has lost its foundational backbone, its spine. And as a result it has lost its tradition/character.

I confess that in the old days when 'newbies' got the condescending third degree and were often subjected to what could seem at times a closed-minded set of standards, I was often one who ran to their defense and argued that the Sphere was far too set in its ways and needed the revitalization of voices that did not necessarily play by the same poetic rules as those long-established on the Sphere. These days, however, the situation has too dramatically reversed itself. So many of the established voices on the various boards have vanished (or are in such a state of hibernation) that there is no dominant aesthetic to the place, no set of standards. And so there is no question of initiation for new arrivals—with the result that each time a few new admirably eager members arrive, it is they that utterly dominate the Sphere for a short length of time. In the old days the strategy of the fresh member was most often (due to the strength of the established core membership) to dip a toe into the water and to study what was in progress, in order to slowly integrate one's voice into a conversation that was already going on. But too often these days there is no conversation already going on; and so the place has become that swiftly shifting cacophony of voices typical of the superficial over-connectedness of an internet chat room. What is missing is the ground of the conversation, the collective memory of the place. It's there, of course, but it plays too small an active role (and then often only as the sniping between old-timers who come out of retirement to deliver their barbs and then vanish again). And so the overall tone of discourse seems to veer wildly according to who has newly stumbled onto the Sphere: without the shared basis, the intimate objectivity that was always the Sphere's special charm, critique comes to feel like no more than a random barking of opinions in a room full of strangers. Critique always runs that danger of elevating personal opinion to doctrine, but the former organization of the Sphere seemed at least to minimize it to a sufficient degree so that many found criticism a useful tool despite what might be argued as its ultimate failings as a true measure of art. I think perhaps former members understood those pitfalls of criticism, and so the work they brought to the Sphere was born far from the vagaries of critique, forged in the personal crucible beforehand, and then brought forth for a last trial by communal fire. I rarely see that particular quality in posted work anymore: finished work ready for the kiln.

I don't really know that a solution can be found, much less implemented artificially, as the process of building a collective foundation, a community, is an organic one, not a mechanical one.

And there is always the distinct possibility that I am just a griping old crank who dislikes most poetry and should retire to the hermitage once and for all and wait for visionary access to something other than words on a page.

Nemo

An astute analysis, Nemo.

Richard

Yes, I agree with Nemo. Dammit. I didn't want to.

(Not the "I am just a griping old crank" bit. The earlier part. :) )

Very well analyzed and expressed, Nemo. I was particularly struck by:

I retract most of the sentiment of my previous posts in this thread.

Nemo wins with: But too often these days there is no conversation already going on; and so the place has become that swiftly shifting cacophony of voices typical of the superficial over-connectedness of an internet chat room. What is missing is the ground of the conversation, the collective memory of the place. And this: I rarely see that particular quality in posted work anymore: finished work ready for the kiln.

Julie gets an assist with: I agree with Nemo. Dammit. I didn't want to.

Which isn't to say I am averse to agreeing with Nemo in general, I just didn't want to agree with him about this. I still stand by the comments about how long people around here have been announcing the decline of the Sphere but Nemo's description rings true for me, which probably means it has been developing this way for a while since I haven't been around for a while.

David R.

Charlotte said: Re the 1st sentence: Yes, that's true, but it's no more than you'd expect.
Re the 2nd sentence: Yes, that's very true! D & A is a fun place. We all get on well with one another and there's never any unpleasantness like ad hom remarks.

I'm finding some of this very negative (as an incurable optimist I would, wouldn't I?). I suppose a lot depends on what individuals actually want from a forum such as this.

It satisfies my needs: I communicate with lots of great people, many of whom I've now met and can truly call friends rather than acquaintances, I enter and occasionally win competitions that are posted here, I read a lot of good poetry and take part in discussions, often find myself laughing out loud... to name a few aspects of being here, all of which are positive.

Well, that's my take on it. I can't say anything about how it all was years ago, before I became a member.
Does it really matter how it used to be? Let's enjoy what we have now. I regret some of the things I've done in my life (who doesn't?) but harking back to the past is a pointless exercise.

Jayne

Hear, hear. I'm grateful that people on this thread have pointed this out. It makes sense. There really is a lot of good here still.

But for me the attempt to express something of what has been lost isn't negative. Not in a negative sense. Sometimes the best way to see what something is is to see what it's not. Nemo wins the positive negative award in this thread. It's the old Apophatic Blues: sing it, maestro.

Does that mean I win the positive positive award, then, Andrew? ;)

You've got it, Jayne, consider it bestowed. Negative negative is another story, and I don't want to go there. Not until next time there's a State of the Sphere thread anyway. ;)

I've dipped in and out of this discussion, so forgive my lapse of memory, but was there something earlier on about attempting to revive the elite element by making the Deep End a password-protected, invitation-only sort of place? I was wondering if some of the old guard might be tempted back by being invited to be official Poet in Residence for a month on such a board. That might stimulate the rest of us to up our game a bit. (I say 'us' -- I'm perfectly prepared for the idea I might not make the cut). And some of them might look in from time to time after the month expired if it had been a positive experience. I never knew the Sphere in the old days, but it seems like this is the element people feel is missing.