"Certainly other cultural workers have been able to live on purpose in order to explore themselves and their cultures in ways remarkably parallel to ethnography."
—Jay Ruby, 1995 | DOI:10.1525/VAR.1995.11.2.77
In Beyond Representation, Julianne H. Newton (1998)
outlines a formula
for evaluating and categorizing anthropological images. Her system begins
with the assumption that all visual representations are a combination of
just three variables. The first variable is Perspective, which can be either
the photographer’s, the subject’s, or the viewer’s. The second variable is
the Direction – point-to-point or person-to-person – in which the action is
flowing, and the third variable is the Intensity or the “evocatory capacity
of the behavior” being photographed (65). When these variables
are combined, they result in fourteen possible forms of visual interaction:
the embrace, gift, encounter, quote, document, theatrical performance, cliché,
lie, intrusion, theft, assault, rape, murder, or suicide (62).
It is important to note that the photographer does not
decide to which category
a photograph belongs. With Newton’s formula, the photographer’s intentions only
result in the creation of an initial data point – E1. The categorized data point
– E2 – only emerges when the photograph has been reviewed and discussed by both
the photographer, the subject, and occasionally the audience (69).
It’s also important to acknowledge that context can cause an image to shift from
one type of data to another. To illustrate this, Newton recalls the image of OJ
Simpson wearing a particular kind of shoe. This image “had little value until its
documentary status became known” (66).
In Real with Fiction, Marc Henri Piault (2007) claims that visual
anthropology
has the ability to “express reality with reality,” (23) even if the imagery is depicted
using narrative techniques more common in fiction. In fact, as people tend to exhibit
altered behavior in the presence of a camera, the line between factual and fictional
representation in ethnographic imagery is always fuzzy.
Rather than fight this, Piault argues that we should accept it and orient our
efforts toward increasing dialogue with and among viewers. “[C]ontemporary anthropology,”
he writes, “implicates the viewer in whatever he or she views” (18). In doing so, it
enables “postponed, repetitive and sometimes contradictory analyses of the lived world”
(22). These analyses are the living legacy of the historical moments captured in visual
ethnographies, and the hope is that they will foster connection, create suitable conditions
to exchange cultural information, and allow for the elaboration of shared values and
differences between peoples.
In Tasting Tea and Filming Tea, Jinghong Zhang (2017) introduces both visual and audio
recording into the Chinese tea ceremony. This cultural activity revolves around the preparation
and drinking of tea in a silent environment. As such, it is primarily expressed through scent
and taste – two sensations which have traditionally eluded visual, auditory, and written
description. Zhang contends that film has an advantage in this regard, as it can “represent
non-visual and non-audio sensations through showing rather than telling” (142).
However, introducing recording equipment to the activity resulted in an inexplicable loss of
taste. Something about their observational recording methods had eliminated Zhang’s capacity
to experience taste or recall it afterward (143).
To address this, Zhang switched their recording style from passive to active; from simple
observation to a more interactive style wherein the camera lens became the eyes of the
researcher. Zhang shot scenes of their hands touching the tea glass so that they could
later connect with their haptic memory. To evoke scent memory, Zhang abstained from using
the camera’s zoom function and instead moved the lens physically closer to the brewed tea.
“When the camera was close to the brews, it was not only working like my eyes looking at
the brews, but could also indicate my nose smelling them” (148). This active
style of filmmaking creates a dialogue which is evocative, interpretive and, by Zhang’s
estimation, capable of extending research beyond the five senses.
In Sensing The Night, Diamanti & Boudreault-Fournier (2021) detail their experience recording
the short film Guardians of the Night. Their approach to documenting night embraces the
inherent difficulties of capturing on visual media an environmental experience which is
primarily non-visual. They argue that the bodily, sensorial, physical, and technical constraints
imposed on researchers by the nocturnal dimension should be “understood as a starting point to
better study the night as a culturalized, spatiotemporal dimension that requires a specific,
nocturnal approach” (307).
Their approach utilized a Zoom H4n handheld audio recorder and a Canon EOS 70D DSLR camera with
a 50mm prime lens. A prime lens is incapable of zooming in to a subject of interest or zooming
out to capture the environment broadly. At 50mm, the images captured by the camera are also closer
and more magnified than the world seen by the human eye. Though initially disappointing,
Diamanti & Boudreault-Fournier (2021) quickly adopted this as part of their active voice. After
all, if much is unseen in the night, shouldn’t images about it also depict a limited amount of
data? Diecentric biases toward data acquisition can be effectively bypassed if researchers design
their “filmmaking practice in a self-reflective manner, focusing on the creative process and
the felt bodily experience of visual anthropologists wandering the night” (307).