Unit 3: Videoethnography, part 2
Riviera, D. (2010). Picture this: A review of Doing visual ethnography: Images, media, and representation in research by Sarah Pink. The Qualitative Report, 15(4), 988- 991. Retrieved from http://www.nova.edu/ssss/QR/QR15-4/pink.pdf
In this brief book review, Riveria reviews notable aspects of Pink’s text, Doing Visual Ethnography: Images, media, and representation in research. Although it is a quick read, it provides an overview summarizing Pink’s research narratives while placing them in a larger context of qualitative research. The piece was published seven years before I am writing this blog post, which has interesting implications about where the video-ethnographic field is headed already in such a short time.
Some notes:
- “In qualitative research, researchers combine visual media and ethnographic research to provide purposeful presentations of meaning relating to social occurrences” (p. 988)
- “…ethnography with the use of visual tools must be thoroughly investigated prior to embarking on a project that will utilize this method…the context is a determining factor when contemplating the application of visual methods” (p. 988)
This is interesting, especially after reading Shrum & Scott’s (2017) textbook last week about choosing a focus of study for video ethnography. I feel that Riveria (thus Pink) are making a point here that I’ve heard before about choosing the methodology that best suits your goals and perspectives on your research interest, but I also think that we (and I say we rather loosely as those who are jazzed about video-eth. stuff) are moving toward an understanding that although your context and topic do greatly affect your methodological choices, choosing video-ethnography does not necessarily prescribe a narrow window of topic possibilities. Am I making sense? (I ask myself this everyday). I’m trying to articulate that I do believe your topic/context/area of study greatly influences your choice of methodological choices, but video ethnography should not be understood as only useful/applicable with, say, visual-based interests like cartographers .
- “The information that a participant shares will vary greatly depending on the type of visual tool used. For example, participants in a study conducted with no visual tools may have the tendency to produce rich narrative information; on the other hand, the use of a still camera may alter the information that is offered by the participants, and their sense of identity may also be adjusted. A video camera may further alter the way in which participants share information and represent themselves” (p. 989)
- “Pairing narrative with photographs and video assists the researcher in
documenting and symbolizing the self-representations of the participants” (p. 990)
Okay… so the camera is an actor in the situation. Yep.
I mean, it’s almost like arguing that someone will act differently if there is another person in the room listening to them talk and taking notes on what they’re saying. Can this be true? Absolutely. Is this always true? Maybe not. I will agree that a camera may have different effects than a person due to the technological aspects (do participants understand how it works and is comfortable with it pointed at them?) and also the permanence (they are now recorded and replayable). But you can always delete footage if participants want you to.
I think people think about cameras as this truth-altering thing, where people are going to be “on their best behavior” in front of a camera, and that very well might be a factor. But aren’t participants affected to present themselves (and their identity) in a certain way based on their relationship with the researcher and the research project anyways? What I’m getting at here is: if participants are suspicious of you, they will absolutely be suspicious of your camera. But if you’re able to negotiate the fluid wall and allow participants to have a say in what is or what is not recorded (or later deleted), it may ease any hesitant or anxious participants. I’m also still thinking about Shrum & Scott’s advice, “stop recording and build relationships” as an important reminder when thinking about all this.
Taylor, N. (2015). Play to the camera: video ethnography, spectatorship and e-sports. Convergence. DOI: 10.1177/1354856515580282.
In this article, Taylor (oh hey) writes on his audiovisual ethnography of a community of competitive e-sports gamers in exploration of “the central role played by recording technologies in the production of e-sports” (p. 115). This was both an informative and easy read: I feel like I understand more about what “writing up” audiovisual ethnographies actually looks like (or can look like). Rather than going through, piece by piece, the data collected (or focusing on its development during and after editing), this article focuses on the construction of knowledge of this community and explores how the camera affected both the researcher’s and the participants’ actions and performances.
Quotes & Notes:
- “For the competitive gamers in ‘Nerdcorps’, the grassroots gaming organization with which I became involved, being watched — playing to an audience of spectators, either colocated or digitally mediated — legitimated their status as serious competitive gamers” (p. 116)
- “Framing reciprocity as a primarily ethical concern, however, assumes that the research in question really can or does serve to benefit those involved — a presumption that is compelling when working with marginalized groups. Less well developed are understandings of what ‘giving back’ could or should look like in work carried out with privileged populations — communities whose members enjoy similar (or greater) degrees of socioeconomic, institutional, or cultural power than that of the researcher” (p. 119).
Legitimated. This is really interesting and might have possible implications of my future audiovisual ethnographic studies — not only for the NBHCSM, but also for the ideas floating around in my head about the Women’s March and other embodiments of “the resistance.” Especially in today’s online shareable world: what does it mean to be watched, and how does audiovisual ethnographic methods fit into that? How does that involve reciprocity, or ‘giving back,’ and what does that mean for the researcher/videographer’s methods of recording/editing/distribution? In my mind, a continued collaboration with participants is required at the very least. But I’m wondering if watching, and further — creating something that enables others to watch them as well, is a form of reciprocity in itself (but in no way should end the conversation of reciprocity, which should be based on a case by case basis).
- “In order to work with them, I had to frame my involvement in ways that aligned with their expectations and needs” (p. 119).
- “…while my institutional affiliation was made clear, and I fully disclosed my research interests to all the participants I encountered, the organizers consistently framed my involvement as a recognizable form of service to the club, rather than as research” (p. 120)
Reminds me of the “supporters” that Shrum & Scott (2017) talk about. They argue that supporters are people who like you and like your project, and who are especially important in the early stages, helping you initiate your project with other participants (p. 27–8). These supporters could potentially be point persons to ensure the researcher’s involvement aligns with the population or community’s expectations and needs.
- “In the tradition of video ethnographic work, I had drawn from at the start of my research, the main advantage of video recording is its ability to document ‘naturally occurring’ activity and to minimize the researcher’s influence on recorded phenomena (Knoblauch et al., 2006: 11). From this perspective, the camera is regarded as a tool that is at once less intrusive than other forms of researcher presence and is capable of documenting a more granular and comprehensive record of ‘what happened’ than other, more conventional written and/or audiobased data collection (Laurier and Philo, 2006)” (p. 120).
So the camera has, in itself, a structure that enables it to collect many forms of granular information simultaneously, depending on where the camera is pointed and if you have the damn microphone turned on (that happens to other people too, right?). By using the camera’s abilities, we are transferring much of the data collection work to the machine, and thus might be able to shift some of that energy into being more present and involved with the community around us. (I mean, as long as you’re super comfortable with your camera. If you’re trying to figure out parts of the camera for the first time on site, though, you’re in deep).
- “In other words, I had to become a more proficient spectator in order to fulfill my role as a videographer and, ultimately, to better understand the community of competitive gamers with which I worked. Over time, as my own appreciation and enjoyment of competitive Halo 3 grew, and as my understanding of the embodied and communicative skills required for elite play deepened, distinctions between what was ‘good for ethnography’ and ‘good for videography’ diminished” (p. 121)
This was a really cool section to read. Taylor articulates that through the negotiations (and pushback) from participants, he had to become more aware of whats important to them, which then informs his understanding of the community that much more. I’m thinking about what people have said to me in the past after complimenting my photography or videography of sports (especially swimming): you understand what it means to be in their spot. #Goals: make something that resonates with the people who are in it.
- “Before being posted online, I showed the videos at NerdCorps events, where interviewees could request edits, reshoots, and omissions, giving them significant control over whether and how they were represented” (p. 122)
- “Operating within e-sports’ broader discursive framework in which spectatorship denotes status, I argue that the camera helped elicit from participants certain embodied arrangements associated with pro gaming; for example, intensive, codified communication, dramatization of in-game events and outcomes, and, from many participants, a kind of hypermasculine posturing” (p. 123–4)
- “The camera might also elicit performances from participants that emphasize what they construe as their natural (or ideal) behavior, what they regard as safe to show, and/or, importantly, their understanding of what the researchers’ objectives are or should be” (p. 124)
- “… the possibility that participants ‘play up’ to the camera might have renewed currency in competitive gaming (not to mention other domains, such as mainstream professional sports), where having an audience is equated with skill and proficiency” (p. 124)
All of the above quotes articulate the ways in which participants may or may not have consciously acted in one way or another in the study. I think this work is so important (!) because I feel like this is such a contested terrain. However, I think with most (and in my opinion, good) qualitative research, there is always a give and take with participants. You always member-check and make sure that what they said is what they wanted to say and how they presented themselves is how they wanted to present themselves. You aren’t out to get them — to “catch them” in the act of acting “truthfully.” Especially because you’re probably interviewing someone because of one aspect of their identity (for this study, gaming; for another, a competitive swimming; etc.) and you are asking about and exploring that identity as a part of a larger contextual community or network. Right? You aren’t ever asking them to reveal their darkest secrets. You’re asking them to tell you about their lived and embodied experience in a particular context, and if other identities come out during that exploration, you’re not being “fooled.” You’re just witnessing the nuanced, messy and imperfect human existence.
Levin, M. C. & Re Cruz, A. (2008). Behind the scenes of a visual ethnography: A dialogue between anthropology and film. Journal of Film and Video, 60(2), 59–68.
This article is “an ethnographic account of the production of a documentary film about out-migration and tradition in a contemporary Maya community of Mexico” (p. 59). Following villagers from Chan Kom migrating to Cancun, the film was produced over six years and, in completed form, is 30 minutes long. The documentary was included on a DVD in the special “Film and Anthropology” issue of the Journal of Film and Video (p. 60). The film “tracks the move of migrants across the rural-urban border and the circulation of ideas, human, and social capital back and forth” (p. 67). Further, the authors assert that the film “articulates, in visual form, the trajectory of internal and external pressures that prompt an ongoing articulation of Maya identity” (p. 68). The authors had different roles in the film making process: “Melinda Levin served as director, camera operator, and editor of the film, and Alicia Re Cruz served as producer, sound recordist, and ethnographic content expert” (p. 59).
[Note to self: add “ethnographic content expert” to my resume someday.
Haha — kidding. Maybe.]
- The overarching goal of the film is to provide a glimpse into some of these social and cultural influences affecting the difference of opinion on the “truest” definition of Maya identity (p. 59)
- “A fusion of the two fields, [documentary filmmaking and traditional anthropology] especially in linear, traditional media formats, is challenging and requires constant negotiation” (p. 61).
I feel like constant negotiation is a crucial facet of becoming an “academic filmmaker” — academics have been “raised on,” if you will, traditional, written forms of creating, gathering, sharing and building on ~*knowledge*~. Now, how do we negotiate that wordly-shaped perspective on research and ethnographic practices alongside filmmaking? How does one translate written knowledge to audiovisual knowledge — if we even want that? I’m also thinking about some concepts from CRD 701 about how the written language and literacy shapes how we think and understand phenomenon around us. What does it mean now when we (at least in Western and/or privileged countries) are surrounded by, and constantly becoming more comfortable with, visual technologies (computers, smartphones, cameras, etc.)?
- “One particular discussion between Re Cruz and Levin concerned the radical difference between an anthropological interview with an informant (which might be categorized in some ways as an ongoing conversation) and an on-camera interview in which the anthropologist’s voice might not be used in the final film. This dialogue between Levin and Re Cruz continued during production, with periodic reminders of the importance of pauses, complete sentences in answers, and nonoverlapping voices” (p. 61–2)
- Although we stand by our decision in this case to minimize the filmmaker-ethnographer presence in The Mayan Dreams of Chan Kom, our choice to retain a more formal approach is now expanded and reflected on by this accompanying article, which allows for a deeper drilling into the specifics of character, relationships, and cultural nuances” (p. 62)
The authors’ conscious choice to remove their own voice from the film is not surprising, but it also is interesting to make the justification and distinction that their reflexivity as researchers is flushed out in this article and not a part of the actual film. Okay, it makes sense not to “put yourself in” the film when, after all, the film is not about you. But it’s interesting to think about the shift involved in the actual interview process, as articulated in the quotes above. Instead of an “ongoing conversation,” there are more pauses, reminders for speakers to use full sentences, etc. These are all broadcast journalism/filmmaker techniques that I’m familiar with, but somewhat ironically, this was something that bothered me in Nanook: to not know (in a scene, or ever) what the filmmaker/researcher was saying to the participants. After all, that’s part of the knowledge construction, right? The types of questions you ask? The follow-ups? The nature of the relationship? Hmm… more thoughts on this are coming, but need more reflection.
- “As we continued to visit Chan Kom over the years, it became clear that various community members began to take some ownership of
the process in different ways, often suggesting locations for filming, helping to set up equipment, viewing dailies, and so on” (p. 64)
It’s interesting to think about participant investment and ownership of the filmmaking process. I think this is really important to establish when possible so participants not only feel more comfortable with filming because they had a say in what/who/where was filmed, but it also enables participants and researchers to maybe move into a more productive and reflexive space. Instead of the researcher dictating all directions of filming, the participants are now part of that directional process, giving way for a more nuanced and richer understanding of their reality.
