Yes, The EU Copyright Directive Does Have A Few Good Ideas -- But They Need To Be Implemented Properly

from the here's-the-next-battle dept

Techdirt's reporting on the EU's disastrous Copyright Directive concentrated on its three worst aspects: Article 13 (upload filters -- now renumbered as Article 17), Article 11 (ancillary copyright for press publications, now Article 15) and Article 3 (text and data mining). But there are some other sections, less well known, which could actually help to improve copyright law in the EU. One of them is Article 14, which concerns "Works of visual art in the public domain":

Member States shall provide that, when the term of protection of a work of visual art has expired, any material resulting from an act of reproduction of that work is not subject to copyright or related rights, unless the material resulting from that act of reproduction is original in the sense that it is the author's own intellectual creation.

The problem being addressed here is one Techdirt has written about before. For example, back in 2015, a German museum sued the Wikimedia Foundation for displaying 17 images of the museum's public domain works of art. Even though the works of art were unequivocally in the public domain, the museum claimed that the photographs were new creations, and therefore covered by copyright. Article 14 aims to clarify that once an object is in the public domain any reproduction of that object is also in the public domain. It's hardly a huge concession, but it's better than nothing.

Since it is a directive, the EU's new copyright law has to be implemented in national legislation by each of the EU's member states individually. The overall intent of Article 14 may be clear enough, but the exact details of its transposition into national law matter, as a post on the Communia site emphasizes. For example, it notes that Article 14 is a minimum harmonization measure, and EU governments are therefore able to make changes to their laws that go further than what is required by the Copyright Directive, in order to simplify its application:

While the scope of Article 14 is limited to "works of visual art" and to such works for which "the term of protection has expired", Member States would be well-advised exclude all non-original reproductions of copyrighted works from eligibility for any form of related rights protection. This would provide increased legal clarity as it would remove the need to find an unambiguous definition of the "visual arts." Also, it would avoid the need to introduce complicated rules regarding the application in time, such as what happens to related rights that were created before the term of protection of the underlying work expired.

Similarly, Communia says that national lawmakers must ensure that three-dimensional reproductions of three-dimensional works -- for example 3D models of sculptures created via 3D scans or similar technologies -- are excluded from related rights protections. It also wants the new laws in every EU country to "enshrine the fundamental principle that mere copies of existing artworks should not be subject to copyright or related rights."

Beyond the specificities of Article 14, there is an important general point here. The text of EU's copyright directive may contain some really bad things, but they, too, must be implemented through national legislation. That means there is still an opportunity to soften the worst aspects of things like Article 13/17 and Article 11/15 by tweaking the exact wording of the national laws to minimize their harm. It's an avenue in addition to legal challenges that can be brought to strike down bad ideas like upload filters. Even if the EU Copyright Directive text has now been agreed, the fight over its implementation is only just beginning.

Follow me @glynmoody on Twitter, Diaspora, or Mastodon.

Filed Under: copyright, eu, eu copyright directive, implementation, public domain, reproductions

Supreme Court To Review Whether Or Not You Can Copyright State Laws

from the please-don't-fuck-this-up dept

Last fall we were happy to see the 11th Circuit rule that, obviously, a state's official laws couldn't be covered by copyright. As you may recall, the case involved the state of Georgia and Carl Malamud's Public.Resource.Org. Malamud has spent years helping to make the law more readily available to the public -- and has been on the receiving end of a bunch of lawsuits for his troubles. The case in Georgia had some slightly odd facts in that the state said that its laws were freely available, but it contracted out to a private company, LexisNexis, to produce an "annotated" version of the law. LexisNexis then got a copyright on the annotations, which it then assigned to the state. Then -- and this is the important part -- the state released the "Official Code of Georgia Annotated" (OCGA) as the only "official" version of the laws. When new laws were passed, they were specifically written to be included in the OCGA. While the lower court said that the annotations could be covered by copyright, and thus Malamud publishing a free online version was infringing, the 11th Circuit easily reversed. It didn't even say something more narrow, like arguing that the republishing was fair use. It said you can't copyright the law at all. Period. Full stop.

... the work was created through the procedural channels in which sovereign power ordinarily flows -- it follows that the work would be attributable to the constructive authorship of the People, and therefore uncopyrightable.

The state of Georgia asked the Supreme Court to review and, perhaps surprisingly, Malamud also asked the Supreme Court to take the case, noting that while the 11th Circuit ruling was persuasive, it was not binding across the rest of the country, and it would certainly be nice for the Supreme Court to just rule, flat out, that you can't copyright laws. Of course, the flip side of this is that if the Supreme Court ruled the other way, that would be really bad.

Well, we're going to find out, as the Supreme Court has agreed to hear the case. The Supreme Court has a bit of history being, well, wacky when it comes to copyright cases, so this really could go any way. But what the court decides is going to be important. I fear a result where the court sides with Georgia, leading other states to sense a "revenue opportunity" in locking up their own laws. However, hopefully, the court recognizes the basic absurdity of using copyright on any set of laws, even when it includes annotations from third parties.

Filed Under: 11th circuit, carl malamud, copyright, georgia, laws, official code of georgia annotated, ogca, public domain, supreme court
Companies: lexisnexis

A True Story Of 'Copyright Piracy': Why The Verve Will Only Start Getting Royalties Now For Bittersweet Symphony

from the the-things-copyright-does-to-people dept

For all of the traditional recording industry's claims of how important copyright is for "supporting artists," the most egregious examples of legacy industry folks screwing artists over tend to involve copyright -- and especially cases involving sampling. The law around sampling is particularly stupid, and has been for decades. Musicians can pay a compulsory license to cover a song, but if you just want to sample a bit, that's a whole different story. And even if you try to do it right... well, copyright will fuck you over. Perhaps the most egregious example is what happened with the Verve's hit song Bittersweet Symphony. Unless you've lived under a rock for the past two decades, you've heard this song. And you may have heard variations on the story of how it used a sample from the Rolling Stones, who were then credited as co-songwriters, giving them a cut of the publishing (which has become a common practice these days when songs are sampled). At least that was the story I initially heard years back. But the full story is truly despicable, and it's back in the news now because, more than two decades later (also, two decades too late), the Rolling Stones have given back the rights. We'll get to that in a second. Because the background here is worth understanding.

There are a few different versions of the story floating around -- and not all of the details match. But at the very least, the Verve's Richard Ashcroft wrote the song Bittersweet Symphony, and the recording used a barely noticeable sample of a recording by the Andrew Oldham Orchestra. That recording was an orchestral cover of the Rolling Stones' song The Last Time. Andrew Oldham had been an early manager of the Stones, and the Andrew Oldham Orchestra was a side project (that sometimes involved the Stones themselves). The sample that the Verve wanted for Bittersweet Symphony wasn't even the same as the Rolling Stones song. It was part of the original arrangement for the Oldham Orchestra, apparently done by composer David Whitaker, who is credited in none of this. Also, the opening violin solo that is so iconic and so identified with Bittersweet Symphony is not actually from that sample. It was done by the Verve themselves, designed to flow right into it the part with the sample.

Oh, and here's the real kicker: the Rolling Stones totally copied the song "The Last Time" in the first place -- from a 1955 gospel track by the Staple Singers, called This May Be The Last Time, which itself was based on some traditional gospel songs. The Rolling Stones nowadays totally admit they copied the Staple Singers song. Keith Richards said:

"We didn't find it difficult to write pop songs, but it was VERY difficult - and I think Mick will agree - to write one for the Stones. It seemed to us it took months and months and in the end we came up with The Last Time, which was basically re-adapting a traditional gospel song that had been sung by the Staple Singers, but luckily the song itself goes back into the mists of time. I think I was trying to learn it on the guitar just to get the chords, sitting there playing along with the record, no gigs, nothing else to do. At least we put our own stamp on it, as the Staple Singers had done, and as many other people have before and since: they're still singing it in churches today. It gave us something to build on to create the first song that we felt we could decently present to the band to play..."

So... the Stones copy a recorded version of a traditional song, and then their manager makes an orchestral version of that song, arranged by David Whitaker. A few decades later, the Verve comes up with Bittersweet Symphony, and correctly licenses the sound recording from Decca Records. However, as the song was coming out, another former Rolling Stones manager, Allen Klein, who owned all the publishing rights on early Stones' recordings, insisted that they needed to license the composition as well, which he controlled. But, of course, remember, the "composition" that Klein controlled was basically a cover of a public domain gospel song (and the Stones' lyrics). But none of that was what the Verve was using. It was using Whitaker's arrangement and Oldham's recording (properly licensed from Decca).

Klein claimed that he hated sampling and basically refused to do a deal. Klein completely brushed off the Verve's manager, and then the head of EMI went to try to convince Klein to cut some sort of deal. From a book about Klein

Ken Berry, the head of EMI Records, came to New York and called on Klein. He played Klein the completed Verve album, Urban Hymns, which EMI’s Virgin label was betting would be a big hit. And “Bitter Sweet Symphony” was its obvious lead single. So Allen could appreciate how imperative it was that he grant a license.

“There’s no sampling of our music,” he said. “We just don’t believe in it.”

“Oh, f---,” said the head of EMI Records.

Klein let a day or two pass before calling Berry. He realized EMI and the band were in a bind, he said, and he was willing to make an exception to his rule and grant a license — if Ashcroft sold ABKCO his rights as lyricist and the company became the sole publisher of “Bitter Sweet Symphony.”

It actually gets worse. The initial deal was a 50/50 split on royalties with Richard Ashcroft. But soon after the song was released and was clearly becoming a huge megahit, Klein insisted that the sample was actually longer than what the band had licensed (the band has always insisted this was false). Klein said the deal for the license was voided, and sued for copyright infringement. Facing a huge expensive legal fight, the band caved and agreed to hand over all of the publishing royalties.

And it gets worse. After watching all of this go down, Andrew Oldham (the other former Stones' manager who had recorded the track that was actually sampled) also sued the band, insisting that while they had licensed the sample, they hadn't paid the mechanical licenses. As we've discussed before, with music there are many, many different licenses at play. The band settled with him as well and, years later, Oldham was still mocking the Verve and Ashcroft for the whole thing.

“As for Richard Ashcroft, well, I don’t know how an artist can be severely damaged by that experience. Songwriters have learned to call songs their children, and he thinks he wrote something. He didn’t. I hope he’s got over it. It takes a while,” Loog Oldham added.

Talk about adding insult to injury.

As for Klein, he also seemed to get perverse pleasure in screwing the Verve and Ashcroft:

The deal was as unsparing as any in Klein’s career; he held all the cards, played them, and raked in the pot. When music photographer Mick Rock happened to call Klein that day to see how he was, it was obvious to him that Allen was enjoying himself. “I was very bad today,” he said.

And then, he too decided to add insult to injury. When Ashcroft didn't want the song used in TV commercials, Klein took matters into his own hands:

ABKCO actively exploited the composition, licensing it to be used in commercials around the world for various products, including Nike shoes and Opel automobiles. When the band decided the song was being overexposed and overused, they declined to license the original recording for any more commercials. As the publisher, ABKCO instead commissioned its own recordings for commercial use.

So, yes, it's "great" that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards have now agreed to voluntarily hand over their share of the royalties on the song to Ashcroft, decades too late. But this whole story is a total travesty and a demonstration of how copyright is not just used corruptly, but to lock up the public domain and to steal from actual creators.

Filed Under: allen klein, andrew oldham, bittersweet symphony, composition, copyright, covers, licensing, mechanical licensing, music industry, public domain, richard ashcroft, rolling stones, sampling, the last time

Announcing: The Public Domain Song Anthology

from the the-public-domain-is-good. dept

When we learned about this project a couple of years ago we promised Bob Schwartz we'd run a plug for it when the time is right. Today is Jazz Appreciation Day and the crowdfunding has begun, so the time is now right. Here is Bob’s plug:

You realize something needs to be done and you are the only one crazy enough to do it. This happened when my law and music worlds collided: A D.C. restaurant stopped booking live music due to license demands from a Performance Rights Organization. I suggested that bands could play "originals," and play from a book of Public Domain popular music – but no such book exists – even though as of Jan. 1, 2019 more music is entering the Public Domain.

I realized I knew the very best music, law, and library people to create such a book, of 370 songs, and to give it away – in text and musical notation software, free for creative use and adaptation – as an Open Educational Resource. And to add up to 50 more "1924" tunes next Jan. 1. But this would mean raising all the money in advance to pay the curator / arrangers, who have agreed they would not claim any purported (and dubious) rights in their research, notation, harmonization, notes, or formatting, or in the compilation itself. If any such rights exist they will be licensed cc-0.

I'm happy and relieved to report that the Public Domain Song Anthology will be acquired and sponsored by The Music Library Association (MLA), Peabody Institute (Johns Hopkins), the University of Michigan, and the University of Virginia.

These university libraries and other MLA members have raised their share of the necessary funds, including for the publication of a print volume for subscribing libraries and donors. The rest, according to plan, must come from a public-facing crowd-funding campaign. Mike and Techdirt, who have their own share of worthy causes, have generously agreed to let me include this link to the Indiegogo page for completion of this project, which includes avenues for corporate or foundation sponsorship. For other means, including donor-advised support, contact me or MLA's Open Access Editor Kathleen DeLaurenti. Thanks.

Filed Under: anthology, copyright, jazz, music, public domain, public domain song anthology, public performance

Emilio Estevez Uses Some Public Domain Footage In Film, So Universal Studios Forces Original Public Domain Footage Offline

from the copyright-as-censorship dept

Yet another example of the awfulness of copyright filters. Back in 2006, librarian Michael Sauers posted a public domain film (a US government production) called "Your Life Work: The Librarian" to YouTube. If you don't know, "Your Life Work" was a series of educational shorts that, according to the Internet Archive, were "meant to inspire young post-depression workers into specific new careers." One of those careers? Librarian. Sauers' upload of the video has lived happily on YouTube for over 12 years until a few days ago when, if you visited it, you saw this instead:

If you can't see that, it says that the video is unavailable, stating: "This video contains content from NBC Universal, who has blocked it in your country on copyright grounds."

Now, that's obviously bullshit, because the video is in the public domain. So, what happened? Well, the takedown notice that Sauers received reveals what almost certainly happened:

If you can't see that, it shows that the video taken down is entitled "Your Life Work: The Librarian." But the "copyrighted content" is listed as "The Public." If you don't know, "The Public" is a new movie written, directed and starring Emilio Estevez. The plot of the movie -- involving a group of homeless library patrons who refuse to leave a public library in Ohio during a bitter cold winter -- sounds interesting, and it appears this was a labor of love for Estevez, who worked on the film for the better part of a decade. He must have been thrilled back in January when Universal Pictures acquired the rights to the film.

Earlier this month, the film got an actual theatrical release, and apparently Universal Pictures does what all the big Hollywood Studios do: upload all the content to YouTube's ContentID tool to make sure no one has offered up a pirated copy.

There was just one problem. It appears that Estevez included a clip of "Your Life Work: The Librarian" within the movie (in which he, himself, plays a librarian). He, of course, is free to do so (thanks to the public domain), and having put that clip into his movie doesn't magically make that clip covered by copyright. But what the fuck does Universal Pictures care about pesky little things like the public domain and librarians' YouTube accounts? It's a big important Hollywood studio, and if it stomps out public domain material and ends up giving strikes to actual librarians, well, it's all good because it must "stop piracy."

So, Universal doesn't bother making sure that the public domain parts are excised from what it gives ContentID, and ContentID identifies a match... and bye bye public domain material, and Sauers now faces having a copyright strike on his account. Sauers has said he's disputed the claim, but now he has to wait around and see if Universal comes to its senses and withdraws the claim, or decides to double down.

Once again, this is why expecting automated filters to work is a real problem -- and it's doubly obnoxious that companies like Universal Pictures (and the MPAA that represents it) have been among the leading voices calling for more internet filters and things like "notice and staydown" which would effectively be used to block even more such content. Hopefully, Universal/YouTube restore Sauer's video soon, but it's just another example of how copyright is frequently used to take down perfectly legitimate speech.

In the meantime, though, you can still see Your Life Work: The Librarian at the Internet Archive... at least until Universal Pictures goes after it as well.

Filed Under: copyright, emilio estevez, librarians, michael sauers, public domain, takedowns, the public, your life work
Companies: nbc universal, universal, universal pictures, youtube

Scribd's Takedown Of The Public Domain Mueller Report Is A Preview Of The EU's Future Under The Copyright Directive

from the what-a-mess dept

For years now, people who understand this stuff have been screaming from the rooftops that automated filtering leads to all sorts of legitimate content being taken down -- and yet, the EU went ahead and approved the EU Copyright Directive and its mandatory filters anyway (and, if you're still repeating the lie that it does not require filters, a quick reminder that multiple politicians who supported the Directive have now admitted that of course it requires filters, so don't even bother).

And it didn't take long for a new example of why demanding filters for copyright purposes is incredibly stupid. Last Thursday, the DOJ finally released the redacted version of the Mueller Report. The document is obviously in the public domain as a work of the federal government -- and tons of publishers rushed to get book versions on store shelves as they do with every big government report, often turning them into best sellers, despite their availability for free.

Among the many places that the digital version of the report was made available was Scribd, the sort of Youtube-for-PDFs that remains annoying but very popular. And what happened? Well, of course, Scribd took the report down claiming it violated someone's copyright.

However, in a taste of what’s to come with the EU’s views on copyright enforcement, the online document portal Scribd took down multiple copies of the Mueller Report claiming that their algorithms identified it as a copyrighted work.

Scribd thought the Mueller Report was copyrighted because there was no one to think otherwise—the company uses an algorithm to make determinations about intellectual property violations.

Filters to the rescue in censoring perfectly legitimate public domain content. It wasn't hard to guess what actually happened. With so many big name publishers offering up their own versions in a rush, some probably used their standard processes to alert Scribd to the text it publishes to prevent uploads of actually pirated books. But, here, there's no such thing as a "pirated" copy. Indeed, Scribd eventually admitted this is exactly what happened:

A spokeswoman for the company says that “a leading global publisher” released the report as a book, fooling Scribd’s systems into thinking the report was owned by the publisher. The company identified 32 copies of the document, all of which were removed and then reinstated, she said.

Quartz, who noticed its own copy was taken down due to this automated failure, says that it received a weird sort of apology email from Scribd that basically says "filters, amirite?"

Users affected by the takedown received an email from the company indicating that “Scribd’s BookID copyright protection system has disabled access” to their documents, even though the email admits, “This does not necessarily mean that an infringement has occurred” or that the uploaders “have done anything wrong.”

The email continued, “Like all automated systems, it will occasionally identify legitimate content as a possible infringement. Unfortunately, the volume of content in Scribd’s library prohibits us from reaching out for verification before BookID disables content. Scribd frequently updates BookID in order to reduce false positives.”

As Quartz notes, this is now the future for basically all content in the EU:

The Council of the European Union recently approved legislation known as Article 13. It’s a law that requires internet platforms to police content for copyright violations before it goes up, rather than only after it is reported as infringing by a third party as they do now. In practice, it is expected to lead to more scenarios like the one here: public domain and other legal uses of work get blocked or taken down by an unaccountable system of corporate dragnets based on code so poorly written and algorithms so poorly trained that it mistakes the most talked-about and most widely shared public-domain documents for copyrighted works.

The good folks over at EFF commented on this with even stronger language:

It is impossible for a copy of the Mueller report to be infringement since it cannot be copyrighted. Filters like BookID don’t work, and in this case, actively work against the public interest.

None of this is a surprise to anyone who actually understands the internet, but because some people falsely believe that the internet has been bad for artists, now we get to deal with the fact that automated filters are going to go censorship crazy.

Filed Under: article 13, bookid, censorship, copyright, eu copyright directive, filters, mueller report, public domain
Companies: scribd

Game Jam Winner Spotlight: Permanence

from the like-it's-1923 dept

Well, here we are at our final spotlight post for winners from our public domain game jam, Gaming Like It's 1923. It's the winner of the Best Analog Game category: Permanence by Jackson Tegu.

Permanence is probably the most intriguing and unusual of all the submissions we received, and it piqued the curiosity and imagination of many of our judges. It's also just about as analog as a game can be: it takes the form of a book. Indeed, the instructions advise (somewhat apologetically) that you professionally print and bind the included PDF to create a real book to hold in your hands — but in a pinch, a basic print-out will suffice.

But this isn't a book of instructions... not quite. Nor is it a book to simply read... not quite. Rather, the book is the instructions, the game, and the story all at once. It is designed to be played by seven people, but not all at once — each player will, on their own time, take their journey through the book. And they won't leave the book the same as they found it: each player is instructed (poetically) to "free their traveler from the page" with scissors, and then to leave behind their traveller's "attachments" as small bookmarks between the pages. All this throughout the course of a meditative roleplaying journey based on two 1923 works that have entered the public domain: the painting Metempsychosis by Yokoyama Taikan, and poems from the book The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.

If you're still feeling a bit unclear on what exactly Permanence is, don't be discouraged — it is a game to be discovered via play, not mastered beforehand. Its unique and creative approach made it a shoe-in for Best Analog Game, and the only way to understand it is to print it out and give it a try. You can download it now from its page on Itch!

And with that, we wrap up the series of winner spotlights for our public domain game jam. Once again, a huge thanks to everyone who participated, and who played the games that were submitted — we never expected such a great response, and we're thrilled with how it went. You can still check out the full list of winners and the collection of other entries at any time, and if all goes according to plan with the finally-expanding public domain, we'll be back with another edition next year!

Filed Under: game jam, public domain

Getty Images Sued Yet Again For Trying To License Public Domain Images

from the this-keeps-happening dept

Back in 2016, we wrote about two separate lawsuits involving claims that Getty Images was selling "licenses" to images it had no rights to sell licenses to. The first one was brought by photographer Carol Highsmith, who sued Getty after Getty had sent a demand letter to her over her own images, which she had donated to the Library of Congress to be put into the public domain. That lawsuit mostly flopped when Getty pointed out (correctly) that Highsmith had no standing, seeing as she had given up the copyright in the photos. The second lawsuit was even more bizarre, involving questions about Getty's rights to various collections it licensed, and whether it had changed the metadata on photos from photo agency Zuma Press. At the time, we noted that little in that lawsuit seemed to make sense, but it still went on for over two years before Getty prevailed, and basically said the only mistakes were done by Zuma.

Well, now we've got another lawsuit against Getty over allegedly licensing public domain images. This one was brought by CixxFive Concepts, and... also seems to be a stretch. How much of a stretch? Well, it starts out by alleging RICO violations, and as Ken "Popehat" White always likes to remind everyone: IT'S NOT RICO, DAMMIT. This lawsuit is also not RICO and it's not likely to get very far.

This is a lawsuit brought by CixxFive, on behalf of itself and others similarly situated, alleging RICO, Washington Consumer Protection Act, and other claims against Defendants for fraudulently claiming ownership of copyrights in public domain images (which no one owns) and selling fictitious copyright licenses for public domain images (which no one can legally sell), including operating an enterprise of third-party contributors to perpetrate this egregious scheme.

Here's the thing, though: you can still sell public domain images. You can do whatever you want with them. Of course, you can't sue over infringement of them, but you can most certainly still sell them. Why do you think book publishers still make a ton of money selling the Bible, the works of Shakespeare, Dickens and others.

In the lawsuit, CixxFive correctly notes that Getty has NASA images in its database, and those are very clearly in the public domain.

Among the images that Getty and/or Getty US licenses are hundreds of thousands to millions of photographs that are in the public domain, including NASA images, White House press images, historical paintings and documents, and photographs that have been donated to the public domain by the authors.

For example, Getty and/or Getty US offers to let the user “Purchase a license” to a NASA photo of Saturn for $499.00 with “standard editorial rights” “or just $475.00 with an UltraPack,” which is a five (5) pack of assets for $2,250.00.

While this may be sleazy, it is hardly against the law.

These images are in the public domain. No one is required to pay Getty and/or Getty US a penny to copy and use them. And Getty has no right to sell copyright licenses for them, as it has done and is doing.

The first sentence is true, the second, not so much. Well, it can't sell "copyright licenses," as that is a misrepresentation over the rights that Getty Images has -- but if it wants to try to get people to pay for stuff that is otherwise available for free, that's Getty's prerogative.

The part of the lawsuit that I don't think will work, but is at least somewhat interesting, is the argument that this is somehow an unfair or deceptive practice. That's moderately more compelling than the RICO claim.

One aspect of the deceptive nature of Getty’s and/or Getty US’s licensing scheme is that Getty and/or Getty US claims copyright on all of the content on its website. For example, the bottom of each page of its website states: “All contents © copyright 1999-2019 Getty Images. All rights reserved.”

Also, specific public domain images are overlaid on Getty and/or Getty US’s website with the © symbol followed by an entity or contributor name, indicating that the image is protected by copyright. The same © symbol and information is also provided next to the public domain image.

Getty’s and/or Getty US’s website terms agreement also states as follows: “Unless otherwise indicated, all of the content featured or displayed on the Site, including, but not limited to, text, graphics, data, photographic images, moving images, sound, illustrations, software, and the selection and arrangement thereof (“Getty Images Content”), is owned by Getty Images, its licensors, or its third-party image partners.”4

Getty’s and/or Getty US’s website terms agreement further states as follows: “All elements of the Site, including the Getty Images Content, are protected by copyright, trade dress, moral rights, trademark and other laws relating to the protection of intellectual property.”5

Getty’s and/or Getty US’s Content License Agreement also states, under the heading “Intellectual Property Rights,” as follows: “Who owns the content? All of the licensed content is owned by either Getty Images or its content suppliers.”6 (emphasis in original)

That part is at least a bit more compelling, but I'm not sure why CixxFive has standing to sue over that. It seems more like something the FTC or state Attorneys General could go after instead. CixxFive argues that it has standing to sue because it licensed some of these public domain images. But.. that seems to be on CixxFive. If it didn't do the research to discover that those pictures were available totally free elsewhere, it's not clear how that's Getty's fault.

The lawsuit also points to Getty's infamous copyright trolling practices via its subsidiary License Compliance Services (LCS), but never actually shows that LCS has threatened anyone over the use of public domain material... other than raising the issue of Carol Highsmith, whose lawsuit we mentioned above, and which got thrown out of court.

I'm certainly sensitive to the slimy practices of Getty Images, and claiming that public domain images are available for license (at very high fees) is very slimy. But it's not at all clear that it's against the law. And it's certainly not RICO (dammit).

Filed Under: copyright, licensing, photography, public domain
Companies: getty images

Game Jam Winner Spotlight: God Of Vengeance

from the like-it's-1923 dept

We're down to our second last winner from our public domain game jam, Gaming Like It's 1923! This week, we're looking at winner of Best Adaptation for the game that most faithfully and meaningfully adapted its source material: God of Vengeance by JR Goldberg.

One of the great things about remix culture, and one of the reason's the public domain is so important, is that creators can turn old work into something completely new with a different meaning, or something that subverts or critiques the original's purpose — but there's also a lot to be said for faithful adaptations that carry an old work's meaning forward into a new era and a new medium. And that's what God of Vengeance does with the Yiddish language play of the same name — which was first translated to English and performed in America in 1923, and led to an obscenity charge, conviction, and eventual successful appeal. Based on that you can probably figure out that this dramatic, improvisational roleplaying game is not for everyone and certainly not for children — but for those prepared to explore its subject matter, including domestic violence, sex work, and a Jewish crime family in Poland, it promises to be an engaging and challenging exercise.

God of Vengeance needs four players who take on the roles in the play, with three playing the main characters and one playing the ensemble of other smaller characters. Each receives a brief description of their character and motivations, such as:

Rifkele is the daughter of Yekel and Sarah. She is in her late teens, of marrying age. She is innocent to the ways of the world. She is scared of her father, who is overbearing and abusive and oppressive. She thinks her mother weak, for always capitulating to her father’s outsize personality. While both her parents speak of an impending marriage, Rifkele is rather cold to the idea. While Yekel and Sarah think is is her shy and demure personality, Rifkele has in fact begun an illicit affair with Manke, one of the young sex workers in her father’s employ. Neither of her parents know. She is smitten.

The play then proceeds through three predefined acts, each of which offers an additional prompt for each player, and tasks them with delivering a monologue. This is made dynamic via a simple mechanic employing the face cards and aces from a deck of cards, which are used to randomly determine the order in which characters will speak and to which other character they will address their monologue (or if it will be a self-focused soliloquy). At the end, all players then discuss each character and their actions over the course of the game to wrap things up. The per-act prompts are designed to keep things on track with the story while still requiring some original ideas:

Sarah - Describe your feeling of your daughter having the opportunities you never did. Do you feel her distance is based in her shy nature, or is she ungrateful? While combing her hair and helping to ready her for a party to commemorate her father’s commission of the scroll, you ask her what sorts of things she wants. A Golden necklace? A pearl comb? She only asks for a new pair of slippers. Describe what you wanted at her age. What are the things you wish you could tell her about yourself?

It could be said that the greatest strength of God of Vengeance — and the reason it won the Best Adaptation category — is also its greatest limitation: though the prompts leave the door open to some creativity, the game clearly aims to encourage players to stay fairly close to the plot and characterizations of the original play, and it feels like replay value with the same group of players would be minimal. On the other hand, there is something immediately and obviously tantalizing about the framework JR Goldberg has designed: it could easily be adapted to other plays, or other stories entirely. But in its current form, it stands tall as a careful and successful adaptation of an old work that made a huge splash a century ago, but is increasingly unknown today. It also raises interesting issues, not just within the play itself: apart from the aforementioned overturned obscenity conviction, in 1946 the play's author leveraged his copyright to prohibit any staging of the play in any language. The game is a mature and thoughtful take on some very challenging material with a complex history, and a very good example of why it matters to have a robust public domain for modern creators to explore.

You can download the instructions and prompts for God of Vengeance from its page on Itch, and don't forget to check out our other winners as well as the many great entries that didn't quite make the cut. I'll be back next week with our final game jam winner spotlight!

Filed Under: game jam, public domain, roleplaying

Game Jam Winner Spotlight: The Garden Of God

from the like-it's-1923 dept

Last week, we looked at one of the two titles that tied for the Best Visuals category in our public domain game jam, Gaming Like It's 1923. This week, we're shining the spotlight on the other winner in that category: The Garden of God by DreadRoach.

As I mentioned last week, any game made in 30 days will need to be creative and cut a few corners if it's going to feature engaging visuals. Where last week's Chimneys and Tulips did that with a minimalist approach focused on color and typography, The Garden of God does it by building on a strong foundation: the graphic sprites and convenient capabilities of RPG Maker MV, the most popular tool for making JRPG-like games. But sprites are just one piece of a game's visual puzzle, and DreadRoach used that pre-made palette to paint some excellently designed environments:

Based on a 1923 novel by H. De Vere Stacpoole, The Garden of God is a short, linear narrative experience that tells a simplified version of the first portion of the story, and manages to very effectively capture some of its key characterizations and emotional beats even as it reduces chapters of text to a few lines of dialogue. The story is short enough that it's not worth trying to summarize — just take a few minutes to play it through — except to say it's about a crew investigating something at sea:

In addition to the skilled map design and use of sprites, the game employs a few nice little scripted sequences as characters interact, with occasional bits of background activity. Most of the actual story is conveyed by dialogue, but there are also objects in the world to be examined for more clues about what's happening, in the style of an adventure game. Though it's all pretty simple and straightforward, it was one of the only games that aimed for an ambitious and robust visual aspect, and that caught the eyes of all our judges. You can play The Garden of God in your browser from its page on Itch, and don't forget to check out our other winners as well as the many great entries that didn't quite make the cut.

Filed Under: game jam, public domain, video games