The Best of Anthro Blogging 2008

Daniel over at Neuroanthropology has just posted his "Best of Anthro 2008" list. Check it out here. I managed to win the coveted award for "Best Use of a Playboy Cover." It wasn't easy, but I knew I could do it. You just gotta believe, kids, and your dreams will come true.

In all seriousness, thanks to Daniel for all the work he did putting that together. It's great to see all of the anthro bloggers putting their ideas, thoughts, and humor out there.

Here are some of my favorite award categories:

Best Hippos:
The Zodiac (Greg Laden’s Blog)

Best Bird Song in Two-Part Anthro Harmony:
Crakes, objects and sounds (Listening to Birds)

Best Debunking of Biblical Hallucinogens:
A Review of Methodology in “Biblical Entheogens” (Archaeoporn)

Best Anthropology Superhero:
Do Politicians and Pundits Think We’re Stupid? (From the Annals of Anthroman)

Best Use of Romantic Poetry:
Studying Sin (Neuroanthropology)

Best 15,000 Year Old Human Face:
La Marche Cave :: Faces From The Ice Age (remote central)

Best Use of Horror Films to Make a Point about Globalization:
The Revenge of the Local, the Horror of the Provincial, and Western Cosmopolitanism at Risk (Open Anthropology)

Best Use of Ritalin:
Grandma’s little helper (Somatosphere)

The whole list of participants is here. Nice job Daniel. Who knows what 2009 will bring???

In other news, happy new year!

Tourists, atop Nohoch Mul pyramid, Cobá, Quintana Roo

Castillo and Tourists, Chichen Itza 2008

Archaeological sites such as Chichen Itza are a major tourist attraction in Mexico. People come from all over the world to see these monuments first hand. The site, like many others in that part of Mexico, is linked to the mythical past of the Maya people, who are idealized and romanticized--and often written out of contemporary society. Many of the narratives about these sites are about the "ancient" Maya people, but there is often little mention of the Maya people who still happen to live today. The reasons for this include attitudes, power relations, and histories of many interested parties who have taken part in the reconstruction, reinvention, and re-presentation of sites like Chichen Itza--including the Mexican government, archaeologists, ethnographers, historians and so on (Castañeda 1996)*.

I think part of what tourist sites do--sometimes--is divorce places from any recent political history. A focus on the ANCIENT Maya at Chichen Itza conveniently avoids any of the more recent historical contestations that occurred at and around the site. The past is comfortably and apolitically put on display, despite the actual histories of the place (which aren't always very pretty).

*I have just started reading the book In the Museum of Maya Culture: Touring Chichen Itza by Quetzil E. Castañeda.

Tourism: Joshua Tree in 20 minutes

This was taken around 2003. I was out at Joshua Tree National Park hiking around "Skull Rock." Out of nowhere this huge tourist bus pulled up on the side of the road, and about 20 people hopped out and started wandering around the immediate area. They took short little walks around the rock, which is one of several geographic "features" of the park, armed with their cameras. This lasted for less than 20 minutes, as people took pictures. I just sat there watching--and couldn't help but take a few photographs of the whole process. And then, just as quickly as they'd arrived, everyone streamed back into the bus, which then fired up and headed down the road and out of sight. It was an amazing example of tourism at work.

Of course, it all looked very strange to me because I had certain ideas about what "proper" tourism was all about. I was, in truth, just another tourist with a camera...I just happened to hang around a little longer in the same place.

Tourism: Zoos

A few years back I was going to zoos a lot and taking photographs like this. That was right around the time (maybe 2002) that I switched my major from photography to anthropology. I was often wondering what people were seeking when they went to zoos to see the animals on display. Were they looking to learn something new, or simply to reaffirm the ideas that they already had about the world? What "ideas of society" (see the MacCannell quote just before this post) are generated by the collective social act of visiting zoos?

MacCannell:Tourism

"In the establishment of modern society, the individual act of sightseeing is probably less important than the ceremonial ratification of authentic attractions as objects of ultimate value, a ratification at once caused by and resulting in a gathering of tourists around an attraction and measurable to a certain degree by the time and distance the tourists travel to reach it. The actual act of communion between the tourist and attraction is less important than the image or the idea of society that that the collective act generates. The image of the Statue of Liberty or the Liberty Bell that is the product of visits to them is more enduring than any specific visit, although, of course, the visit is indispensable to the image. A specific act of sightseeing is, in itself, weightless and, at the same time, the ultimate reason for the orderly representation of the social structure of modern society in the system of attractions."

–Dean MacCannell, The Tourist (1976)

Images in the service of tourism: Selling Cancún

This image is one that shows up frequently in Google image searches for Cancún. On the first three pages that I looked through, it was used by 6 different sites (that's 6 out of 60 or 10%). This was one was, apparently, taken after the 2005 hurricane that passed through. Blue water is, of course, one of the most common elements that are used to sell Cancún, along with photos of long sandy beaches. With the rise of internet use for tourism-related promotion, it's interesting to see how the same image can be used by various people.

Geertz, Ryle, and the subtleties of meaning

One of my favorite parts of Clifford Geertz's essay "Thick Description" is where he discusses the work of Gilbert Ryle. Specifically, I am referring to the "wink" example, in which Geertz describes how one action (a wink) that outwardly appears to be the same can in fact have multiple meanings depending on the intentions of the person who actually performs it (and of course the person interpreting or receivinf that message). Geertz uses Ryle's example, in which two boys are "rapidly contracting the right eyelids of their right eyes." Geertz writes:

In one this is an involuntary twitch; in the other, a conspiratorial signal to a friend. The two movements are, as movements, identical; from an I-am-camera, 'phenomenalistic' observation of them alone, one could not tell which was twitch and which was wink, or indeed whether both or either was twitch or wink. Yet the difference, however, unphotographable, between a twitch and a wink is vast; as anyone unfortunate enough to have had the first taken for the second knows (Geertz 1973:6).

The difference between the two gestures lies in the intentions of the two boys, and the social codes that exist surrounding such bodily movements, and which separate a mere twitch from intentional communicative movement. Geertz then goes on to talk about a third boy who, for fun, parodies the wink of the first boy. This adds another layer of complexity to the social codes involved. The ultimate point of this passage is the difference between what Geertz and Ryle call "thick" vs. "thin" description. Thin description does not get much beyond outward appearance, and in this case such a description might just chalk up all three "winks" as simply the same action. Thick description, Geertz argues, is the goal of ethnography, which is "a stratified hierarchy of meaningful structures in terms of which twitches, winks, fake-winks, parodies, rehearsals of parodies are produced, perceived, and interpreted, and without which they would not...in fact exist, no matter what anyone did or didn't do with his eyelids" (1973:7).

How can the above discussion be applied to photography? What would a thick description of visual communication entail? One of the problems, of course, is the fact that one photograph can be read in a multitude of ways--many people have pointed this issue out. Is there a "correct" or "more correct" way of reading photographs? Can the meaning of a photograph be controlled, or limited, especially once it is published and disseminated? For me, it's apparent that part of the meaning of any photograph comes from the intentions of the photographer, and the context in which it was created. But that is only the beginning, and it's not something that is always permanent or definite, by any means. There is no clear way to embed the intentions and context of a photograph to it; it just can't be done completely (especially with photographs online). They are so easily ripped out of context all the time. Also, even within controlled contexts such as books or museum displays, photographs can be interpreted in amazingly different ways. So what does that mean?

It seems that a thick visual description might be akin to getting as much from particulars as possible. Maybe each individual instance in which a photograph is published, experienced, copied, talked about, sold, or displayed should be the focus of anthropological analysis, as opposed to treating photographs as if they have a kind of static, monolithic, or predictable meaning. What might be more interesting and productive is attention to the social processes and actions through which photographs travel, as opposed to remaining fixated on what "the" images mean.

We often look at images as if they are singular instances, when they are not. Famous photographs, such as those that Matthew Brady took during the Civil War, are sometimes talked about as if there is just one way in which they can be experienced, encountered, or understood. But Brady's original images were just the beginning of a long line of narratives, reproductions, displays, articles, books, exhibitions, and even web pages that people experience and interact with. Looking at an original negative is different from looking at a print, which is different from flipping through the pages of a history book, which is entirely different from viewing an image via a search on Google.

An original photograph is just the beginning of a string of social meanings that extend out from the original production, often along many branching paths. There is the life of the individual prints that are made, the life of the negative or digital file, the life of any reproductions...and then there is the life of the interpretations and/or stories that photographers, viewers, and subjects in photographs create, share, change, embellish, and pass around. It is, seemingly, endless.

Contested meanings

Check out this post over at Sociological Images for a good example of the way that one image can spark multiple interpretations or meanings. It starts with an interpretation by the author, and then heads into the discussion in the comments.

Family Portrait uploaded to Flickr take two: 1984

This is a great family photograph from 1984. This image comes from here. Here is the caption: "The family as at 1984. From L to R: Jake, Ned, Sam, Rosie, Shaun and me. Bowl haircuts and velveteen tops were really in then. " This photo is part of a larger set called "Emily's Childhood," which has photographs from the 1970s-1980s.

Not a Tourist: Graffiti-Photo-Flickr

The path of this bit of visual communication (at least as far as I can trace it): someone paints a stencil on a wall on Ave de Mayo in Buenos Aires, and then someone else comes along with a Canon Powershot 560, shoots a photo, then goes home and posts it on Flickr. Months later, an anthropology grad student stumbles across the photo, re-posts it on his site, sending the original down yet another communicative/interpretive path.

Using stereotypes to sell cameras

This is from a recent Nikon ad to sell their S60 point and shoot camera with face recognition. I found this one via a post over at Sociological Images, which is a great new site that I just came across.

Tragedy, photos, and the internet

Here is yet another way that photographs/images are put the use in our day to day lives. The above image is one of the most well-known of the 9/11 hoax pictures that were sent around the globe via email. It is, of course, a photoshopped hoax. These kinds of images are now a common part of our world--and they seem to be especially prevalent during times of tragedy. I found a copy of this photo via the About.com page on Urban Legends. As far as the social rationale behind this kind of "sick humor" or internet rumor, have a look at this quote by Alan Dundes (this was on the About.com site as well, to their credit):

"...one person's tragedy may become a point of projection or catharsis for the fears and anxieties of others. Remember, people joke about only what is most serious."

Michael Shanks: Ghosts, mirrors, machines

The above image of the surface of a daguerreotype was taken by archaeologist Michael Shanks as part of his project "Ghosts in the machine." Daguerreotypes are, of course, one of a kind photographic positives--direct reflections of light that once hit particular objects. What I find particularly intriguing are his ideas about an archaeology of media (or "media archaeology" as he puts it). From his site:

Media archaeology. Tracking the traces and remains of media, old and new. There are archaeological matters at the heart of all media, involving questions like:

• what, archaeologically, happens and has happened to the technology, apparatuses, instruments and products of media?
• how does the material and archaeological aspect of a medium affect its operation?
• how does the archaeological and material aspect of media help us understand them in new ways?

With our cameras we are creating a great mass of objects/artifacts. Photographs are everywhere, as are the machines that we use to create them. Old Nikons, Leicas, Canons, Koronas, Hasselblads, Brownies, Kodaks, Agfas...they are the detritus of the photographic past (distant and not so distant). Photographic history spans from the technology that Niépce used all the way to the newest Sony, Panasonic, Nikon, or Canon digital point and shoot.

Over a 182 year period an unbelievable number of photo-artifacts have been produced, re-produced, sold, traded, discarded, taped into albums, and disseminated in thousands of ways. Who collects them, and why? How do the products of these media machines, and the machines themselves, continue to play a role in our social and cultural lives? Why do we replace one technology with another? How do our conceptions change as our imaging capabilities shift? Is there really any effect? Did humans see the world differently or imagine it differently when twin lens Rolleiflexes were the norm? What about when glass plates were the latest technology? How does "reality" come out looking differently when you shoot with this versus this?

With Flickr and other image-sharing sites, the whole process has shifted into one in which the artifact becomes a digital image that is stored on servers, home computers, and external hard drives. Viewing those images--sitting around a computer--is a different experience than flipping through the pages of a book or album, or looking at framed photographs on walls. In what ways are the social uses of photographs changing with the advent of digital photography, image sharing, email, web sites, etc?

For archaeologists and other anthropologists, the exhaustive production of images results in an incredibly rich mine for studying not only the past, but also the very recent present. And, as Shanks points out, the very tools that we use to create all of our media--and what happens to them--also present a fascinating look into the complex image-oriented world in which we live.

Maria and Meaning

In the book Photographs, Objects, Histories, Elizabeth Edwards and Janice Hart wrote about the idea of looking at photographs--and I would add images in general--not just for their image content, but also as objects that exist within social and cultural experiences (see page one in Edwards and Hart 2004). Edwards also writes about looking at photographs as embodiments of social relationships (or "relationships made visible" as she puts it). This means that while the image itself (what a photograph depicts) is important, there is much more that can be done with an analysis of visual culture. How are images used toward certain political or social ends? What relationships are evident--between viewer and image maker, etc? Who made them, and why? How are images digested and disseminated by the wider public? What are the responses and reactions?

Here is one good example of how there is much more to look at than the surface content of an image. Recently, Mexican Playboy published this cover:

On the surface, it is just another image of an attractive young woman on the cover, which is the usual way that the magazine sells its product. Really, based on the image content alone, the above image is pretty much the usual fare for magazines like Playboy. But what matters are the other powerful images that this photograph refers to, and the reactions of certain people who have passionate ideas about what that image does and does not mean. And the reactions were pretty strong. The problem of course is that the image of this young woman, whose name is Maria, bears a little too much referential resemblance, at least to many people, to another well known Maria (source):

Add to that the fact that Playboy's magazine was released the day before the traditional festival day held in honor of the Virgen de Guadalupe, which made the whole situation even worse. And, despite the apology that the magazine issued (saying that they were only trying to make the cover appear renaissance-esque), I would guess that the editors knew they were playing with fire by making the reference to the icon of the Virgin Mary.

Of course, magazines like Playboy are known for pushing the boundaries like this, so this is really not a surprise. What this is about is attempting to control the meaning of images, and it brings up the difficulty in doing so. There are, of course, many strong social relations and institutions that uphold a certain conception of what Mary is, and how she should be depicted. The Playboy cover was a direct challenge to that image, a risk taken to appeal to a a certain readership market. But, as the reaction and subsequent apology by Playboy shows, there are boundaries and limits to this kind of image manipulation--at least in this case. It is a process of push and shove, in which meaning comes about through actions, reactions, feedback, and so on.

But this is by no means a closed case, as the image of the Virgen de Guadalupe is an icon that is adopted, manipulated, and reworked in many different contexts. Here is one example (source):

And, from the blog My Vanishing Present, here is another (this was taken in Oaxaca City this past summer):

All of these images have a similar referent, but they bring up vastly different ideas, from sexuality and commercialism to religious belief, individual expression, and even revolution. This also illustrates the inherent instability of meaning, and the fact that what an image "means" is never something that can be pinned down and precisely defined. As is the case with the Virgen de Guadalupe, meaning is determined in a complex social, cultural, and political world. The "relationships made visible" that Edwards speaks of become apparent in the contestations that arise, as different groups of people, whether they are the publishers of adult magazines or devout churchgoers, take action to uphold their own ideas about what is and what is not the "true" meaning of a particular icon.

This kind of continual process of meaning-making points to the active and communicative nature of material culture that archaeologists such as Michael Shanks and Ian Hodder (among others) have talked about. Interestingly, what or who "Maria" really is highly dependent upon the very sociocultural situation in which she is evoked. Such meanings, while grounded in past conceptions, are always in a dynamic state of fluctuation. Images, like the ones I have posted here, only capture fragmentary snapshots of this meaning-making process as it traverses diverse social paths.

Representing brains

Check out this online gallery of images taken of the human brain called "The Beautiful Mind." I found this link via Neuroanthropology who found it via Mind Hacks on the post The fire within. Not only are the images pretty stunning, but they are also fascinating because they give new insights into how the human brain looks--or at least how it looks via certain photographic processes. How do our conceptions of the brain change as brain imaging technologies change and improve?

Displaying goods and services

Yet another way that photographs are used in everyday life...

Image/photograph/memory

Every time there is a major fire, and someone is interviewed about having to evacuate their house, what is one of the primary objects that people save? Photographs. Part of that, of course, is because they are easily transportable...but there is also something more going on here.

When people travel, what is, these days, a given part of the process? Cameras--both video and still. Why is it that we travel all around the world? Is it to see the places that we visit, or so that we can get video/film/photos of those places? Sometimes it's difficult to tell.

A while back I worked (for a very short time) shooting a few weddings. Photography is engrained into the entire process, the entire ritual of marriage. Every stage had to be photographed, and it was standard for people to plan the kinds of images they wanted to make sure were captured. Think about that--before the actual event people already have in mind what photographs they wanted. Those photographs are were then literally acted out during the wedding, in a sense. Certain moments in the wedding are all about creating material objects that will be shared, archived, and passed down as material manifestations of memory.

Culture has been called an extrasomatic means of adaptation. What about thinking of photographs and other visual forms of communication as extrasomatic memory devices?

Another way we use photography: documentation of archaeological artifacts

ABOVE: Biface, San Diego County, CA.

Many archaeologists use photography to document archaeological artifacts. In a way, we create new artifacts to represent the already existing "real" artifacts, and then we archive the whole lot. Of course, photographic artifacts are easier to store, and easier to use in Powerpoint presentations, among other things. Still, the process is pretty interesting...there are the artifacts and then the photo-artifacts, and all of them are studied, analyzed, and moved through systems of organization and meaning.

*The above photograph is one that I took. I know, I know...it's too artistic. There should be a scale or something to make everyone happy. I like it as it is.

Relocating the Past: Trudi Lynn Smith

At the recent American Anthropological Association meeting in San Francisco, I was fortunate to be a part of a panel that focused on a visual anthropological theme. One of my co-panelists was Trudi Lynn Smith, who is a PhD candidate at the University of Victoria. Her presentation was very well executed, and incredibly interesting. Here is a little excerpt from her site:

RELOCATING HISTORICAL PHOTOGRAPHS WITH THE KODAK PANORAM NO. 1

ABOVE: Early 20th century photograph taken by Bert Riggall.

"FIELDWORK 2008: To perfectly replicate an historical photograph by the legendary outfitter and photographer Bert Riggall from the popular viewpoint located on the Prince of Wales hotel hill in Waterton Lakes National Park, Alberta. I use the exact camera as Riggall, having borrowed the Panoram No. 1 from his grandson. The process and performance of trying to replicate the photograph with the very same camera that he shot the view with in the early 1900s is recorded here."

ABOVE: Photograph taken by Trudi Lynn Smith on July 27, 2008.

Another excerpt:

"With no viewfinder to speak of, the challenge of a panoramic swing lens, and the extremely wide field of view, re-photographing an historical photograph with the Kodak Panoram no. 1 is not a straight forward task. My usual method to repeat a photograph is to use the grid method, which we developed while working on the Rocky Mountain Repeat Photography project in 2004 (now the Mountain Legacy Project). However, in that project, we knew the centre of the image. We placed a grid screen in the camera viewfinder, which we duplicated in digital formate to lay onto our historical scanned images. By working back and forth between the digital print out of the historical image with a grid laid over it, and the grid in the camera viewfinder, we were able to make camera adjustments in the field..."

Read the rest here.

How people use photography #4: Gary Winogrand

This is an interesting video, in that it has well-known photographer Winogrand talk about his photographic philosophy, but also shows him in action. Pay close attention to the interaction between Winogrand and his "subjects" at around 1:15 in the video. Take a look:

Yes, unless you speak German the voice over is a little difficult to get around, but you can still get the basics of what Winogrand is saying. I found this here via MDM's site 2point8.

The effect of presence

"There is a tribe, known as the Ethnographic Filmmakers, who believe they are invisible. They enter a room where a feast is being celebrated, or the sick cured, or the dead mourned, and, though weighted down with odd machines entangled with wires, image they are unnoticed--or, at most, merely glanced at, quickly ignored, later forgotten"

-Opening paragraph from "The Camera People" by Eliot Weinberger (1990)

Photographic Zoo

This was taken at the local zoo a few years back (around 2002).

How people use photography #3: Family Portraits

Here is a nice example of an old family portrait, found here. One interesting mix of the past and present way of collecting, storing, and sharing family photographs is the way that people are digitizing their collections and putting them online at places like Flickr. Whereas personal and family photographs were mostly stored in boxes, albums, and on walls in the past, for many people today they are now online.

Pictures of pictures

This excerpt from Don DeLillo's White Noise is one of my favorite literary descriptions of tourism and the act of picture taking:

Several days later Murray asked me about a tourist attraction known as the most photographed barn in America. We drove 22 miles into the country around Farmington. There were meadows and apple orchards. White fences trailed through the rolling fields. Soon the signs started appearing. THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED BARN IN AMERICA. We counted five signs before we reached the site. There were 40 cars and a tour bus in the makeshift lot. We walked along a cowpath to the slightly elevated spot set aside for viewing and photographing. All the people had cameras; some had tripods, telephoto lenses, filter kits. A man in a booth sold postcards and slides -- pictures of the barn taken from the elevated spot. We stood near a grove of trees and watched the photographers. Murray maintained a prolonged silence, occasionally scrawling some notes in a little book.

"No one sees the barn," he said finally.

A long silence followed.

"Once you've seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn."

He fell silent once more. People with cameras left the elevated site, replaced by others.

We're not here to capture an image, we're here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack? An accumulation of nameless energies."

There was an extended silence. The man in the booth sold postcards and slides.

"Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender. We see only what the others see. The thousands who were here in the past, those who will come in the future. We've agreed to be part of a collective perception. It literally colors our vision. A religious experience in a way, like all tourism."

Another silence ensued.

"They are taking pictures of taking pictures," he said.

He did not speak for a while. We listened to the incessant clicking of shutter release buttons, the rustling crank of levers that advanced the film.

Images, History, Control

Earlier this year I had a small, well, incident with the local historical society (which shall remain nameless). I used one of the images from their online site on a history-oriented post...and of course I cited the source page, the museum, and provided a clear link to their site. About a week later I received a terse and formal email telling me to take the image down, explaining that their images are not "clip art." It was, they informed me, strictly a pay to play situation if I wanted to have the actual image on my page (note: the photograph was from 1928 and the actual photographer was not cited).

Interesting.

I responded with an email, basically asking why the museum felt that policing the use of their images in this way was necessary--especially if people are giving proper attribution. I also made the point that the only way that my particular non-commercial and academic use of the image was even FOUND was because I had linked back and attributed the museum. I also explained that I felt the museum's policies regarding the images went against its mission purpose, which is supposedly to share history with the local community.

I received yet another email in response that explained (in somewhat condescending terms) the costs involved with curating and maintaining a large photographic collection. I was also told that the museum tries to generate revenue everywhere it can, because it is run on a relatively low budget, and receives no government funding.

In a final email, I wrote that I understand that there are high costs of maintaining an archive, and that I understand that the museum budget is very limited. At the same time, I asserted my view that charging people for non-commercial, personal, and academic use of screen resolution images is a little excessive. I also think it comes from a pre-internet model of curation, in which images are highly controlled because of the costs involved in reproduction and distribution. I sent the museum a copy of the use guidelines of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in hopes that they might get a little inspiration.* Finally, I wrote that I think the museum is actually DISCOURAGING proper attribution with its policies, and encouraging people to take images outright. Either that, or they are discouraging people from using, linking to, and sharing the online material--which in the end is a loss of free exposure for the museum.

The politics of image use online is of course very complicated. I do understand the position of the museum, in that they are trying to stay afloat and get everything out of their collection as possible. At the same time, this kind of control of historical photographs just does not sit well with me. I understand and I don't understand. One interesting way to look at this whole issue is anthropologically. How does the museum function? What is the structure of its organization, who works there, and for what reason(s) do they work there? What are the discourses that the museum uses to represent its mission? The museum is a collective political and economic organization that has been able to amass an archive of photographs, label itself as the community purveyor of information, and charge the local population to look at its own past. At least, that's ONE way to look at it.

There are power inequalities and problematic histories beneath. What are the stories behind the photographs themselves? Who took them, and who is pictured? Did the subjects grant permission to the photographer? (in many cases, such as those that include local Native Americans, I doubt it) How were the photographs acquired, and what under what terms were they taken into the museum?

A lot of this is about power, and the fact that so many people so easily accept the museum as the rightful guardian of history, despite the actualities of the past. Museums and other institutions often get a free pass because so many of us accept the idea that they are the rightful owners of these kinds of historical objects. I think it's a good idea to remain a little skeptical, and to always ask questions--despite the official statements about legal rights, noble goals, and such.

*The Met, for its part, allows people to use images--unaltered--as long as there is proper attribution as spelled out in the terms and conditions.

How people use photography #2: Found film

I found this site via Michael Shanks, where I have been getting some good inspiration of late (thank you Dr. Shanks). Gene, over at westfordcomp.com finds old cameras with film, develops the film, and then posts the photographs online to share with the rest of us. The project is incredibly interesting...take some time to look around at some of the different examples.

The visual and the anthropological

In many ways, my understandings of visual anthropology might be what Jay Ruby would call "undertheorized." That basically means that I have a lot to learn. While I am very familiar with the history of photography, I know much less about the specific lineage of anthropology in that history. Sure, I know about Flaherty, Mead, Bateson, Griaule, Rouch, Worth, Ruby, and many of the mainstays...but I still have a lot to learn about the overall history of what is either called "visual anthropology" or "the anthropology of visual communication".

Part of this theoretical blind spot stems from the fact that the history of visual anthropology is, by and large, not a strong component of standard anthropological education (at least not undergraduate). It's just not in the curriculum, so students do not learn about it. I did learn a little about it in a "Culture through film" course back at UC Santa Cruz, but that was an elective class and one that was outside of the main theoretical backbone of the program. Another reason for relative dearth of information about visual anthropology is the fact that the visual side of anthropology has often been relegated to the fringes of the discipline (hence Margaret Mead's oft cited statement about anthropology being a "discipline of words"). But I think things are changing.

I have been studying and practicing photography for about 15 years now--that was my first career choice before I switched to anthropology (which was one of the best decisions I have ever made). In the past year or so I have been reading more and more about the histories and trajectories of visual anthropology, since I have always been interested in the relationship between anthropology, photography, and visual communication. Right now I am reading Fadwa el Guindi's Visual Anthropology, which has been a good read so far--although I think I might situate myself a little more toward the artistic side of the visual anthropological continuum compared to el Guindi--but I am not quite sure yet. And on a little side note, the film Dead Birds by Gardner seems to be to paradigmatic ethnographic film that went TOO FAR in the artistic direction. Seems like Bateson, Mead, and el Guindi agree with that.

The second chapter is about a well-known dialog/argument between Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson about the uses of film and photography in anthropology. I tend to agree more with Bateson than Mead, especially when it comes to the idea that placing a camera on a tripod is automatically more "scientific" than hand-holding a camera and changing positions. I find Mead's line of reasoning there pretty flawed, since each method has its benefits AND drawbacks. The idea that a camera sitting on a tripod is automatically more scientific or objective just does not work for me. It is what it is, and is still a very selective and limited representation of reality.

In the interview of Ralph Gibson that I posted earlier, he mentioned that black and white photography is at least three steps removed from reality--the color is taken out, the scale is reduced, and the form is flattened to two dimensions. I think this is very important to keep in mind--photography and film, for all of their benefits and amazing qualities, are little more than approximations of that ever-shifting, complex, three dimensional, colorful, chaotic, unpredictable idea we call reality.

Photographic studio, Oaxaca, 2007

How people use photography #1: Ralph Gibson

Memory

Memory is one of my favorite subjects--especially in relation to meaning-making and history. In the past couple of days, the theme of memory has come up three times...so something must be in the air.

First, I attended a lecture at SDSU by Dr. Alexandra Savauge, who is at the Universidad Autonoma de Baja California Sur (and at SDSU this week). She talked about the colonial past of museum displays, patterns of collection, and historical discourses, as well as new directions that museums are taking in the postcolonial era. At one point, she expressed her view that museums can be seen as three dimensional memory devices--as ways of remembering the past through objects. Museums, then, can be seen as large, culturally-constructed mnemonic devices that assist people in understanding their past. At the end of her lecture, she argued that many museums are now moving away from the colonial model, which was based on pushing a nationalist identity, and toward a very different model that includes alternative points of view and puts "thinking" ahead of nationalist discourses.

While driving back home from the ocean this afternoon, I heard a story about a man known only as "H.M." At the age of 27 he underwent surgery in an attempt to cease his chronic and life debilitating seizures. What happened was something completely unexpected, and tragic. While the seizures were abated by the surgery, in which a chunk of his brain was removed, H.M. also lost the ability to form new memories--the part of the brain that "consolidates" new memories into long-term memories had apparently been removed as well. H.M. lived for the next 50 years without the ability to remember anything for more than a few seconds. He was also heavily studied by scientists who learned a great deal about how memory works in the human brain. More of this story is here.

Finally, I just read the latest post over at Neuroanthropology, which is about another piece written by Vaughan Bell. Bell's article is about "grief hallucinations," or re-experiencing deceased people, or vividly remembering people after they have died. Bell's view of patient's experiences is that in some cases they are almost filling in the deceased person, somewhat like the way the brain will complete a blind spot. Bell calls this a hallucination, but I wonder where the line is between memory and hallucination. Is a hallucination just a very strong and visceral memory? What is the difference, really?

Memory can certainly be something that is seen as socially or culturally constructed, and museums are an example of a collective social memory device. Photographs, and photographic albums, serve a similar albeit more personal function (or sites like Flickr). But, like a good four-fielder, I can't dismiss the biological basis of memory and memory production. It is not something that is purely cultural or social, as the story of H.M. illustrates. As with pretty much everything else, memory is something that derives from a complex admixture of social construction and biological capacity.

Photograhic Actions

This photograph definitely falls into the "photograph as act" category (this one is for you Trudi). Check out the rest over at James Danziger's blog here.

Top 100

Karen Nakamura over at Photoethnography links to a post about the Top 100 anthropology blogs here.

Photo Studio, SF, 11/08

Holiday snap, SF, 2008

Mitla

Mitla, Mexico 1859, by Desire Charnay (1828-1915). Title: "Corner of courtyard in Mexican ruin at Mitla." From the Metropolitan Museum (www.metmuseum.org).

Mitla, Oaxaca 1926 by Edward Weston. Weston wrote about Mitla:

"I am not one who can view ruins no matter how magnificent, and these were, with the same thrill of pleasure that comes from discovering a fine contemporary creation, though it be only a five-cent piece of pottery.

"But I was fascinated by the stone mosiacs of Mitla, for besides a variation on the Greek fret, there was a unique pattern,–oblique lines of dynamic force,–flashes of stone lightning, which remain my strongest memory of Mitla" (Daybooks Vol. 1 pg. 169).

Mitla, Oaxaca by Veronica Miranda on May 25, 2008.


Mitla, Oaxaca by Ryan Anderson on May 25, 2008.


Mitla, Oaxaca by Ryan Anderson on May 25, 2008.

Rock Art, San Diego

Galleries

So I was reading through some of Jay Ruby's work over the weekend, and it got me thinking about the ways that I have seen people use photographs. A few years back, I had some work represented in a gallery in Carmel, California. It was fascinating to see how the whole system worked, and how photographs were treated. There were several artists represented by the gallery, many of them quite well known. Their prints were all organized in pull out archival drawers, and labeled accordingly. Prints were sold in editions, which were around 35 or 50. Pricing was arranged in a tiered fashion, meaning that earlier prints sold for less, and the more that sold, the higher the price got. Shows were rotated every couple of months. Each show would focus on a select group of all the artists represented, sometimes augmented by rare prints/vintage prints from famous photographers who were no longer alive. On a day to day basis, there were salespeople whose job it was to show prints, talk about artists, and attempt to sell as much as possible. When people walked into the gallery, the salespeople went to work and tried to get people to buy. Sometimes tourists with no money came through the door, and sometimes serious buyers came in...but usually the serious buyers just called on the phone or emailed.

The prints themselves...well, the whole point in the gallery was convincing people of their value. Value was attributed to the prints by a number of factors, including the popularity of the artists, current trends in the market, rarity of the print (or perceived rarity), quality of the print and the methods used to create it, and, of course, little labels that TOLD YOU what it was worth. Much like our monetary system, the value of those prints required a belief in the whole gallery system (and the larger art photography world in which it existed).

The whole mood of the place was quiet, almost solemn. Everything was well-lit, clean, very organized. Prints were handled by salespeople very carefully, as if they were as delicate as snowflakes, which added to the overall system of meaning and value that was being attached to those pieces of photographic paper mounted on 100 percent cotton rag board.

It's a very unique way of treating photographs, and, depending on how you look at it all, pretty strange.

Context Matters

The above photograph was taken in the summer of 2005
at an anti-war rally in downtown San Diego.

The above photograph was taken in the summer of 2004
during a trip that I made to Costa Rica. I had just eaten
dinner, and was walking with friends when I noticed this
gathering of street performers.


The above photograph was taken in the summer of 2007
during my trip to Oaxaca, Mexico. This was taken in
the zocalo, where vendors, street artists, and others
congregated in the tourist center, awaiting passersby.

Some people argue that photographs and other visual images speak for themselves, and that descriptive captions should not be added to them (this is an argument that I see more commonly from art photographers). At the same time, in many ethnographies, photographs are additions to the mainly textual argument that is presented...and while they often have short captions, there is usually very little consideration of the the context of the photograph itself--when it was taken, who took it, what was happening at the moment, etc.

The "meaning" of a photograph can be easily manipulated, taken out of context, or changed completely. Controlling that meaning can be very difficult, and is sometimes impossible. This is especially true when images become available online, where people can grab them and use them for a variety of purposes that completely escape the original context of production.

So what can be done about this? Is it possible to control such meanings? Saussure and Derrida, among others, argued that once something is produced, it automatically starts to lose its original meaning--and this is something that authors (they were talking about texts), and in this case photographers, can never control.