Announcing The Launch of SMW New York’s Initial Program of Events for 2016

Social Media Week New York, now in it’s 8th year, brings together thousands of professionals in marketing, media and technology. Today, we’re excited to announce the initial schedule and speaker lineup for SMW New York, which takes place this February 22-26.

Join us across our two official venues, and hear from organizations such as Ogilvy, Starcom MediaVest, MRY, Forbes, Mashable, MTV, The Economist, GE, Pinterest, Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter, Spotify and many more!

Session Spotlight

This year’s SMW New York event will feature 60+ official sessions between The TimesCenter and SVA Theatre. Some of the topics include: data & analytics, paid media, video, content marketing, mobile messaging, virtual reality, ad-blocking, growth marketing, and much more. Take a look below at a sampling of the events we’re excited for, and click here to view the initial 30 sessions that are confirmed for next month’s event.

  • “Mediapocalypse! Are Platforms Killing Media and Advertising? And Why Won’t Anyone Talk About It?” presented by Deep Focus
  • “Bracing for the Ad-Blocked Future: How Brands are Moving Beyond the Impression” presented by Crowdtap
  • “Hello Founders: Meet the Generation After Millennials, and What Sets Them Apart” presented by MTV

First Round of Confirmed Speakers

Individuals from leading organizations across marketing, media, and technology will join us in New York to direct the conversation. This year, we’re thrilled to announce some of the speakers confirmed for February 22-26, with more to be announced in the coming weeks:

  • Mark Thompson, CEO of The New York Times
  • Alex Blumburg, CEO of Gimlet Media
  • Evan Shapiro, EVP, Digital Enterprises, NBCUniversal
  • Jennifer Betka Wakeford, CMO of StubHub
  • Dan Harmon, Creator and Executive Producer, “HarmonQuest,” “Community” and “Rick and Morty
  • Kate Lewis, SVP and Editorial Director of Hearst Magazines Digital Media
  • Ian Schafer, Founder and Chairman of Deep Focus
  • Ricky Van Veen, College Humor & IAC
  • Lisa Weinstein, President of Starcom Media Group
  • Glenn Minerley, VP Group Account Director of Momentum Worldwide
  • Scott Carlis, VP Digital & Social Media of AEG Global Partnerships
  • Camille Hackney, EVP Brand Partnerships & Licensing of Atlantic Records
  • Kevin Knight, Head of Creative and Brand Strategy of Pinterest
  • Joe Rospars, Founder and CEO of Blue State Digital (and President Barack Obama’s chief digital strategist for 2008 and 2012 campaigns)
  • Garance Franke-Ruta, Washington Editor of Yahoo News
  • Tina Cervera, SVP and Executive Creative Director of VaynerMedia
  • Addie Conner, former Chief Innovation Officer of SocialCode
  • Sean Foster, Chief Executive Officer of Crowdtap
  • Afdhel Aziz, Brand Director of ABSOLUT Labs
  • Joahne Carter, VP of Marketing of Ricola
  • Ron Pinelli, CPA (FL), VP Digital Research and Standards of MRC
  • Peter Fasano, Global Consulting Principal of OgilvyRED

How to gain access to these speakers and events

If you want to gain access to these events, and join the thousands of attendees that come to Social Media Week in NYC each year, register today by purchasing your pass. You can also save 20% on your purchase until January 14th!

All Aboard New York’s Nostalgia Train

Riding the Nostalgia Train sounds like something you do when you’re lost in reverie and memory, pining for what used to be. If that’s what it is, then many New Yorkers are casting backwards through time on Sundays this month, riding antique subway cars along the M Line, from Second Avenue to Queens Plaza and back again.

The people on the Nostalgia Train are a different breed.

Some come dressed in period costume, Depression-era hats and coats, shoes and neckties, dark lipstick shades of another epoch. These otherworldly anachronisms dance on the station platform to the music of a little swing band, the slick-haired singer crooning “Night and Day.”

Others come in MTA paraphernalia, railfans dressed in t-shirts and knit winter caps proclaiming their favorite subway line. The F and the 6 are tops. One young man sits grinning, running through a near constant patter of conductor announcements. He’s got the script down and compulsively, giddily recites its length and breadth. “This is Broadway-Lafayette,” he calls out. “Transfer is available for the 6 train. Stand clear of the closing doors.” Another young man, wearing an Amtrak t-shirt, holds his iPhone by the open door between the cars, audio recording the clickety-clack in the dark tunnel’s roar.

Haloed by warm incandescent light bulbs, an older man stands and pontificates on the state of today’s New York, city of yuppies, cell phones, and drunk Santas: “Is this the city you and I were raised in? It’s become alien. I have no feeling for it anymore. It’s scary!”

But no one listens. They’d rather pretend it’s the past.

Retired motormen trade stories. Clasp hands. Greet each other warmly, saying, “Hey, I ain’t seen your ugly mug for a hundred years.”

Among the fanatics and nostalgics, other New Yorkers climb aboard, acting like the everyday subway riders they are–tired, bored, going to work, coming home from a long day already. They’ve got no time for reminiscence.

The Nostalgia Train doesn’t sound or feel or smell like today’s bright and whispery subway cars. Heavy in its bones, it broadcasts a loud symphony of sound, rattling and wheezing through the underworld. Inside, ceiling fans whiz overhead. The air is olive drab or else some shade of sea foam.

Open windows let in the smells of the tunnel, which shift from swampy organics to a fragrance you’d swear was burnt buttered toast.

Soot flies in and lands in your eye. In these old cars, you are not sheltered from the city. You are joined to it.

There is no stillness here. The rattan benches bounce your spine up and down as the jolting car keeps all bodies in motion.

But the best part comes when the train dives beneath the East River and launches forth to Queens. The driver lets out the throttle, like letting loose the reins of a horse, and the whole thing torpedoes ahead. It dives deeper, faster, jerking from side to side, shuddering in its bolts. A gritty wind blasts through the openings, strong enough to knock off a hat, if it tried.

In this unbridled speed, the riders are giddy. It is a relief to feel the city thrumming in your gut, to not be insulated from it, to not be held in some sterile, hospital-lit tube.

This feels real. This knocking around. This sucking down the filthy wind. This robust mechanical jolt.

This is New York.