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I have always liked conventions. Even though I am an introvert, being able to wander around anonymously in a crowd is fun to me. Similarly, I like festivals, faires, and basically any activity that involves milling about with vague purpose. Ideally the purpose involves things besides consumerism, so just shopping isn’t enough (boo wandering around the mall). If there’s a band, a stage performance, or a speaker, I’m there. Bonus points if I get to wear stupid outfits.
The Renaissance Faire was my first convention-adjacent activity, and I really loved it. Arts festivals and steampunk festivals soon followed. I didn’t attend my first anime convention until 2013, when I was 30 years old. I already felt too old to be there on some conceptual level. However, conventions were just festivals but indoors, with a wider variety of activities. I was hooked.
AMVs have always been the highlight of my convention experience. Still, I love to attend voice actor panels, fan panels, workshops, dances, and concerts. Anime conventions offer the whole package of activities... and my husband and I probably attend too many. This blog entry idea came to me because we will be at Momocon this time next week. Momo will be our third anime convention this year, and we’ve already booked tickets and hotel for Otakon in July. I am currently planning on Otakon being our only other anime con in 2023, but my whims are fickle and I’m easily swayed.
My local convention is not very large, fewer than 6000 attendees. Compared to Momocon, with 42k+, or Otakon, which is almost as large, my local con feels quaint and manageable. The panel room sizes are all decent and tend not to be too full (except maybe the panel on Himbos), the convention center is small and easy to navigate, and the celebrity guests feel up close and personal.
On the AMV contest side, I get the sense that smaller conventions tend to get fewer entries. There is definitely some prestige about being accepted as a finalist at Momocon or Otakon compared to smaller convention (though being a finalist is ALWAYS exciting). Seeing an AMV on the big screen is a very different experience, though, than seeing it on your own personal computer. This year was my first year seeing my videos at an AMV contest, and seeing your own work compete is rewarding in an unexpected way. Even if the videos you are competing against are much better, knowing that your video was good enough to be considered in the same prestige as some really jaw-dropping work is always an honor.
I find myself largely ambivalent to the competition scene. Due to how I approach video editing, it’s about the journey for me. I spent so many years making outfits and cosplay, and my satisfaction comes from a job well done. The outfit or video being complete is basically sufficient for me. I’m excited to submit my videos to conventions that I plan to attend of course, see previous comments about the big screen. Similarly, I never felt the need to enter cosplay competitions. It was always art that I did for me, for art’s sake. The community AMV competitions are definitely more about the social aspect than the accolades (pun intended), and I have so much fun in the screening calls and the voting process that being a finalist or even a winner is mostly tangential.
Still, I’m really excited to attend Momocon next week and see my video in the auditorium. Even though my masking is going to look flatly terrible because I didn’t take time to fix it up before submission, I have a lot of hype seeing my work and the work of my friends surrounded by large groups. I’m also really hopeful that the video I’m working on now makes it to Otakon finals. If it doesn’t, I’ll be a little sad, but I will still thoroughly enjoy the convention anyway. Walking around in stupid outfits is really enjoyable to me.
I should make my next post about Accolades/RICE, both community competitions with blind judging. I have a lot to say about why I like them and what makes them special.