Visual Research Methods: A Retrospective

In reflecting on my experiences this past semester and the courses that made up my foray into grad school I am reminded of what a privilege my education is and how glad I am that I made the choice to return to school after so many years away. It hasn't been easy returning to school as an older student but I am learning to recognize and appreciate this "non-traditional" approach to life I seem to continually engage in. I bring up the idea of "non-traditional" because one of my classes this semester also could be described as this. At first "Visual Research Methods" sounded abstract, convoluted and intimidating but it was a course that would satisfy one of my masters requirements so I thought I would brave it. I'm glad I did. I've never felt words to be my thing so it's tough for me to express just how much I got from this class. What I learned was the importance and possibility of viewing and presenting ideas alternatively. Thinking outside the box and working non-traditionally rather than conforming to the typical mode of writing a paper to present your ideas. How can we explore this all-encompassing culture of the visual and create useful, tangible methods of presenting our ideas as part of that culture? This class was innovative, fresh and extremely relevant to contemporary culture. The assignments, the readings and class discussions were rigorous and challenging to say the least (and yes, completely intimidating when I first arrived) and have expanded my mind in ways I never imagined. One of the highlights of the course for me was the video essay project. Examining visual culture from the standpoint of the absence of the visual and getting to work with Valerie Sandler continues to impact me and shape the way I engage with culture, visual and non-visual. Another of the assignments was to create an academic blog (which is the result of what you're reading). This was something I was new to and admittedly quite resistant to. I'm still getting comfortable with using technology to express my thoughts and ideas without feeling like I'm being self-serving and boring. Everytime I approach a blog, it requires time and thoughtfulness in a way I completely resented at first. Ugh, another blog I would think. But, I have to admit, its kind of fun and I see the merit in doing it. Will I continue? Actually, I'm kind of liking it and don't really care so much anymore if it's self-serving or boring and I don't really care if anyone reads it. Yes, I think I will continue and see where it goes…


"Visual Research Methods" presented such a diversity of concepts, theories, ideas, issues and politics surrounding visual culture. Unpacking them in one semester is impossible for me. Thankfully, the beautiful thing about education is that I get to take these ideas with me and think about them for a long, long time.

Generation M: Misogyny in Media & Culture - Trailer - Available on DVD

The other day I was studying the face of George Washington on a dollar bill and made the simple revelation: there are no representations of women (with the exception of Susan B. Anthony) on any U.S. currency. Certainly not a new revelation, I know, [nor is the absence of female presidents] but a heightened awareness for me nonetheless. The thought prompted my reflection on an article I read in the Washington Post (Sunday 2/21/10) written by Jessica Valenti about equality for women in America still being an illusion:

Every day, we hear about the horrors women endure in other countries: rape in Darfur, genital mutilation in Egypt, sex trafficking in Eastern Europe. We shake our heads, forward e-mails and send money. We have no problem condemning atrocities done to women abroad, yet too many of us in the United States ignore the oppression on our doorstep. We're suffering under the mass delusion that women in America have achieved equality. And why not -- it's a feel-good illusion. We cry with Oprah and laugh with Tina Fey; we work and take care of our children; we watch Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton and U.N. Ambassador Susan Rice proudly and sigh with relief, believing we've come so far. But we're basking in a "girl power" moment that doesn't exist -- it's a mirage of equality that we've been duped into believing is the real thing. Because despite the indisputable gains over the years, women are still being raped, trafficked, violated and discriminated against -- not just in the rest of the world, but here in the United States. And though feminists continue to fight gender injustices, most people seem to think that outside of a few lingering battles, the work of the women's movement is done.

Valenti goes on to paint a very grim but real picture of the statistics of violence against women as well as more subtle forms of oppression happening: women only holding 17 percent of the seats in Congress, abortion being legal but with 85% of counties in the U.S. as having no provider (and now certain states traumatize women even further by making them view an ultrasound before getting an abortion -- btw, where is the impregnator's responsibility in that one?), and the continuance of the gender pay gap - women work outside the home, but make about 76 cents to a man's dollar and, according to Valenti, 'make up the majority of Americans living in poverty.' She calls it an epidemic of sexism or "enlightened sexism" as author Susan Douglas puts it.

It's not just women talking about this epidemic of sexism either (thank God). I am praising the work of professor Thomas Keith after discovering his 2008 documentary called Generation M: Misogyny in Media & Culture. In it, he tracks the 'destructive dynamics of misogyny across a broad and disturbing range of media phenomena: including the hyper-sexualization of commercial products aimed at girls, the explosion of violence in video games aimed at boys, the near-hysterical sexist rants of hip-hop artists and talk radio shock jocks, and the harsh, patronizing caricatures of femininity and feminism that reverberate throughout the mainstream of American popular culture.'

He gets it. And I know there are a lot of wonderful men out there who get it too.

Jessica Valenti is stern but she is right:

We act as if the hatred directed at women is something that can be dealt with by a stern talking to, as if the misogyny embedded in our culture is an unruly child rather than systematic oppression. Yes, women today fare better than our foremothers. But the benchmarks so often cited -- the right to vote, working outside the home, laws that make domestic violence illegal -- don't change the reality of women's lives. They don't prevent 1 million women from being raped, female troops from being assaulted or the continued legal discrimination against gay and transgender people. And seriously, are American women really supposed to be satisfied with the most basic rights of representation? Thrilled that our country has deigned to consider us fully human?

There is so much more work to be done. The truth is, most women don't have the privilege of being able to look at gender justice from a distance; they have no choice but to live it every day. Those of us who are lucky enough not to have to think about sexism, racism, poverty and homophobia on a daily basis -- those of us who have the privilege of sending money to an international cause via e-mail while ignoring the plight of women here at home -- have a responsibility to open our eyes to the misogyny right in front of us. And then to stop it.

I realize this notion of feminism and the idea of equality for other genders could be alienating and threatening especially when you're not used to sharing power. But it really doesn't have to be. There really is enough for everybody and wouldn't the world be a completely different place (and better in my opinion) if we tipped the scales a bit? Guys, we need you, we need your help to stop this violence and oppression against women…it starts with you.

Generation M | Media Education Foundation

Generation M | Media Education Foundation

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This is a website rich with media resources. The mission of the Media Education Foundation is to produce and distribute 'documentary films and other educational resources to inspire critical reflection on the social, political, and cultural impact of American mass media.' Check them out!

Digital Storytelling Project with Earl “The Pearl”

As part of a digital storytelling project for my Visual Research Methods class, I recently traveled to my parent’s winter home in Mesquite, Nevada to work with my father, Earl. For as long as I can remember he has always told his stories to anyone that would listen (and even to those who wouldn’t). Stories of growing up in a little Mormon farm town on the outskirts of Bancroft, Idaho, of being a Marine in World War II and what it was like to be stationed in China, and stories of meeting my mother. He’s recalled countless memories of flying an airplane and how proud he was to get his first twin engine airplane and how close he’s come to dying as a result of flying those planes. Not one for political correctness or sensitivity to the feminist agenda [let’s just say he would make Archie Bunker proud], many of his stories are actually off-color jokes that he repeats over and over and laughs himself silly each time the punchline comes as if it is the funniest thing ever said. He’s offended many and touched a few but he’s got a big heart and means well (I think). My dad loves an audience and he loves attention. Whenever visitors pop in to say hello, family is home for a visit, or he’s out playing poker or golf with the boys, he can’t help but share his stories. Now at the tender age of 84 it’s becoming more important to him to have his memories preserved. He wants his life recorded, wants to leave a footprint. Rather than me, his dutiful daughter trained in media studies, recording the stories the way I interpret them, I wanted to attempt to empower my father with the means to record his stories on his own terms, whenever and wherever he wanted to.

For recording this project, we used a basic set up: a small Panasonic mini-dv video camera and a tripod. I tutored him in camera angles and shot composition and let him make the decisions on how he wanted to be positioned and framed and if and when he wanted any zooming done. He also held the camera and shot some b-roll (pond, pictures, etc.) which he selected himself on where to include in the editing process. It was challenging to get him to have enough patience with the technology and I could feel him getting frustrated and just wanting me to do it all while he just talked. This was not the purpose for me in doing the project and I absolutely had to stand my ground with him on this one: the expert challenging the authority! In the end I’m not sure how empowered he really felt with being able to push the buttons (I think this takes much more than doing it once to even feel a little confident), but I know he felt a great sense of pride with seeing himself on film, being able to share one of his stories and knowing that he helped create a little piece of immortality. He was so proud, in fact, that we had to have a little screening with my mom and the neighbors. We popped the popcorn and watched Earl “The Pearl” in action in his first directorial debut. He was thrilled.

This particular story of his interpretation of a Navajo Indian Raindance was told on several occasions throughout my childhood and has had many incarnations. Without fail, every time he would perform this song, the strangest thing would happen…



It always rained.

(fyi, you must let the video load in its entirety before attempting to play)

The End of Solitude...Really?

I haven't blogged in awhile and I'm feeling guilty and I hate that I'm feeling guilty for this. As I mentioned in my initial post, blogging (and email) is not my preferred mode of communication and I seriously feel like an alien for saying this. I'm knee-deep in a research project for my job at CGU and am combing through old issues of academic journals. Yesterday I came across an article from the Jan 30, 2009 issue ofThe Chronicle called The End of Solitude by William Deresiewicz. He discusses the voracious need for 'more and broader connectivity' and this idea of there being an absence of solitude (particularly among teenagers). This was written over a year ago. :) Here's an excerpt:

"So we live exclusively in relation to others, and what disappears from our lives is solitude. Technology is taking away our privacy and our concentration, but it is also taking away our ability to be alone. Though I shouldn't say taking away. We are doing this to ourselves; we are discarding these riches as fast as we can. I was told by one of her older relatives that a teenager I know had sent 3,000 text messages one recent month. That's 100 a day, or about one every 10 waking minutes, morning, noon, and night, weekdays and weekends, class time, lunchtime, homework time, and toothbrushing time. So on average, she's never alone for more than 10 minutes at once. Which means, she's never alone."


I think it's important here to acknowledge a distinction between solitude and 'being alone' because they simply are not the same thing. To me, texting and social networking sites give a very false sense of 'being connected' but in actuality are very isolating. There is this illusion of not being alone but really, that's exactly what you are...alone...in front of your computer staring at the screen...alone. Did I mention alone? If you're not personally, physically in the presence of others than you're not really 'with' them, are you? Some would argue that even then (especially when you're texting while you're with someone, which I personally find offensive) people are still disconnected. I can talk for hours to someone and feel some sense of connection with them, but I can't see their face, read their body language, etc. so in that respect I'm just subscribing to this illusion that I'm totally connected to someone and not alone when I'm by myself. So then, what exactly is this idea of solitude that Deresciewecz wants back?

What if we didn't have computers to connect us with the world? What would we do? How would we behave? Try going without your computer for one week and see what, if anything, is different about how you interact with the world. I dare you. I guess I'm more than a little miffed because we've let technology interfere and replace personal connection. I'm a hugger, an affectionate person who likes to see people's faces and hear them laugh...for real...it gives me joy...and I'm feeling malnourished and frustrated. I do not get this joy from touching my computer buttons.

These poor teenagers are being duped into believing that they are not alone because they have a phone in their hand. But who am I to talk, I just banned myself from facebook for two weeks to finish my research papers for grad school and feel like I'm going through withdrawl. It is seriously everything I can do to discipline myself not to even check the newsfeed to see what my friends are up to (even if I don't respond). In essence, to 'feel connected'. It's a lie!! ;) Even when I'm on facebook or checking emails, no matter how many messages I receive it never seems to be enough (she says in her addictive state). I still feel isolated, lonely and disconnected. I hate that we have come to this but I don't know what to do about it...
Maybe its just me.

Diversity of 'Feminism'

In reflecting on the diversity surrounding the interpretation of 'feminism' as it relates cross-culturally, I am intrigued by two particular readings.

Cherrie Moraga's self-reflexive essay Long Line of Vendidas: Chicanas & Feminism resonated with me in its personal and truthful tone. I felt that Moraga's choice to use her background as the cornerstone of her writing as well as her admittance to only being able to base her theory on her experience made this a good example of a true feminist work.

I also found her mention of identity alliances (i.e. identity with race and sex) and her perspective on it being 'easier to resist sex in an Anglo context than in a Chicano one' particularly interesting. It was helpful for me to better understand her interpretation of Chicano feminism because of the historical analysis she provided on the powerful Malinche myth in perpetuating the legacy of betrayal… What I particularly appreciated is that a Chicana feminist re-interpretation of Malinche's role in the conquest of Mexico is now happening in an 'attempt to create a more realistic context for her actions'. To me, it shows how powerful hand-me-down interpretations have been throughout the course of history and the necessary un-doing of these interpretations in order to create change. With respect to the idea for change, Moraga makes a strong point that 'to be critical of one's culture is not to betray that culture' and that a 'strategy for the elimination of racism and sexism cannot occur through the exclusion of one problem or the other.'

The Combahee River Collective Statement piece really compelled me to think about the subjectivity of 'feminism' and the binary struggle of racial and sexual oppression. Although I do understand the context of this piece, I feel like the urging for 'white women to have a more than superficial comprehension of race, color and Black history and culture' in any time frame is idealistic but not based in reality. Can a white woman truly have more than a superficial comprehension of something that is completely foreign to her? How can you empathize with something you haven't directly experienced? I can attempt to understand and sympathize with a black woman's struggle (and do), but for better or worse, I will never be able to empathize with being a black woman. In any case, I don't think blame or rewards are productive here, but rather finding other relatable avenues in order to convey the problem. Engaging in the continued struggle is to be a part of the struggle; it is being active in confrontation, which perpetuates the struggle, rather than in finding a solution to end it. This piece reminded me of the importance cross-culturally to recognize the imperative duty to formulate and embody one's own identity politics. It will always be true I think... "the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation are us."

THE THIRD EYE OF VISUAL CULTURE: WHAT WE SEE WITH SOUND

"Throughout each day, I lose my bearing in the changing light, but at twilight, when the day is fading into a vortex and night approaches, I am reminded of fireflies and fairies and the hidden treasures that lay dormant between the flashes of light they discharge and the genuine, creative magic of believing in what is seen beyond the naked eye."

--Valerie Gaer-Sandler from her book Catching Firelies in the Twilight

In my Visual Research Methods class at grad school we were given the assignment of coming up with a 3-5 minute video essay exploring 'visual culture'. Essentially, we were to write about visual culture in video essay form. Having never attempted a video essay before, I honestly wasn't quite sure where or how to begin and the task seemed daunting at first. As with any good essay, though, I think research is crucial, so I began to read…a lot. Nicholas Mirzoeff's compilation The Visual Culture Reader which we had been reading in class, proved to be an instrumental reference as well as Jean Pierre Geuen's section on sound in his book Film Production Theory. What I found was that even though visual culture could be defined as the images, objects, and set of practices revolving around ways of seeing, the emphasis was on the literality of what was seen with our eyes. Nowhere did I find mention of the images we create within the absence of the visual being included within the scope of 'visual culture'. Thus, began my exploration.

The 'outer visual' as I like to call it, is deeply limiting and exclusionary in defining visual culture. Some would argue (like Nicholas Mirzoeff) that visual culture is not inclusive of the images that we see with our minds, or what I term the 'inner visual'. I would argue that the imagery created within this inner visual, as is produced with sound or touch, is the third eye of visual culture and something that can in no way be excluded if one is to thoroughly examine what visual culture means. This video essay is an important contribution because it provokes a re-examination of what it means to think about, write about and practice the visual. Are those of us without eyesight excluded from defining visual culture simply because we cannot see? Can visual culture exist without the visual? In her essay Studying Visual Culture, Irit Rogoff makes it a point to say that how we see is as important as what we see. I concur only to add that what we see depends on how we see it.

For this self-reflexive docu-style video essay I hoped to interview at least two people with visual impairments to find out how they would define visual culture. Jeff Senge, the Coordinator of Information & Computer Access program at Cal State Fullerton was extremely helpful and a wonderful interview, but since he'd been visually impaired since birth, he suggested I talk with a woman named Valerie Gaer-Sandler and get her perspective. Valerie, I learned, was recently transitioning into the non-seeing world after having been diagnosed with a rare disease. Valerie's interview came at the eleventh hour the night before I was to screen this project. She called to let me know she was flying in from New York and would be in Upland, California of all places visiting family. Ironically, Upland, I explained, was the town right next to Claremont (where I'm studying) and that I would be happy to come to her if I could have an hour of her time. She agreed.

Valerie and her family are truly special people. She welcomed me with open arms and spent longer than the hour I'd requested sharing her very personal experiences with me. She is a writer, a teacher and a musical artist in her own right and extremely insightful. The music track that you hear on the essay is an original composition called "Listen for the Light" which she wrote during her struggle with coming to terms with her blindness.



As a Cultural Studies major with a Media Studies concentration, I am interested in examining the deeper meanings surrounding the production of culture, in particular media culture, but my desire to develop this particular project was also a personal one. In 1996, I visited my ophthalmologist so he could examine a strange blur I had been experiencing in my right eye. Carefully, he told me that what I had been experiencing was the result of a partially detached retina and emergency surgery was necessary or else I would lose my sight in that eye. I remember the surge of confusion and fear that went through me as I was faced with my own permanent blindness. I did have surgery and although I was blind for two weeks after in order to allow my eye to heal, my vision was restored. I never, however, forgot what it was like to step into that other world and how many people live in that world today. In reflecting back, I think it was really then that I began thinking about this idea of the inner visual and what it would mean to explore it. It is my hope that we can understand that there is another dimension that needs to be included within the definitive 'visual cultural' framework.

BUCA DI BEPPO DISTURBS ME - OBJECT TO OBJECTIFY?

Have you ever noticed the pictures hanging on the walls at the Buca di Beppo in Claremont, CA?  Last Friday evening a friend and I opted to endure a ridiculous hour-long wait and make Buca our restaurant of choice (I must have really had a craving for homogenized Italian food and clamorous environments).

Once we were seated, we waited for what seemed like another hour for our food.  This, however, was actually a good thing.  It gave me a little time to observe.  In the midst of my eyes glazing over from low blood sugar, I began to look around to admire the schlocky Italian décor and the splattering of pictures that adorned the walls.  Upon further examination, I could see that most all of them were classic reproductions of female Italian sex symbols scantily clad in some sort of compromising position.  To my left was a picture of a naked woman holding two large watermelon halves in front of her breasts.  To my right was Sophia Loren in all her cleavaged glory while Gina Lollobrigida bent over to reveal hers.  These were just a few.  The walls were covered with similar content.  But, the most disturbing picture (and ironically the largest) was the one blaring right in front of me.  In this picture, a slick, dark-haired man and a voluptuous woman are sharing an enormous plate of spaghetti (paralleling the portion sizes touted at the restaurant, I'm guessing).  She is looking away in disgust as he is putting a piece of spaghetti down the middle of her cleavage.  She clearly is not embracing his act as a sensual one, but seemingly much more violative.  

As I absorbed the atmosphere, I was reminded of the pervasion of female objectification and it disturbed me.  Nowhere could I find any pictures of men in compromising positions being ogled (or groped).  It wasn't like I could conveniently change the channel either, my food had arrived and I was committed.  Sure, I could have gotten up and walked out, but then I would have missed observing others observe these pictures (or their pretend or real oblivion to them for that matter).  I won't be going back, however, unless to interview people on what they think of them.  

I know Buca is supposed to represent an Italian authenticity.  If promoting the prevalence of patriarchal dominion in Italian culture and elsewhere is their objective, then they are effective. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then the deluge of these pictures speak volumes about the beholder.

CONFESSIONS OF A VIRGIN BLOGGER

I feel awkward and resistant.  The vortex of information overwhelms and alienates, yet intrigues me when I give in.  In this rapidly advancing digital age of flips, blips, twits and microchips, I am still new and inexperienced.  The fear of not knowing how, where or why to blog has kept me from it for far too long.  What do I say?  How do I say it? Why?  My mother ingrained in me the "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all," mantra so my life has consisted of saying nice things but thinking not so nice things. Talking for the sake of talking is pointless and wasted space and saying nice things is a lie unless you really mean them.  My point here is that maybe I've been a little too precious in formulating my words for fear of not formulating them the right way or not making them nice enough.  Classic chick rhetoric.  Ahh…the perfectionist strikes again.  Yuk. 

 I am a young blogger, embarrassed by my lack of both experience and desire to share my voice with the world through a medium that feels so impersonal.  Up until now (and by now, I mean my present state as a fully-fledged grad student knee-deep in the rigors of academia), I've regarded blogging not as a way to share and create a sense of community, but as a self-serving false attempt at superficial connection.  Does anyone truly represent themselves authentically on-line when it is so easy to hit the delete key and create the self you want others to see?  For a very long time I resisted the notion that any type of truly deep, meaningful personal connection could happen by using anything electronic as a substitute.  I want to look into someone's eyes, study their gestures and hear the sounds they make.  No matter what the ads say, I can't reach out and touch someone through a computer screen.  I'm antiquated in my desire, I know, but I don't think I'm crazy for wanting real human connection and feeling deprived by trying to get it from clicking a button.  I don't want to break up with someone via text and I don't want this done to me (she says, reflecting on her recent past).  There should be a 10 Commandments of Technology and this should be one of them.  "Text unto others as you would have text'd unto you…"  Okay, you get my point.

Because of this new technology one may argue that it's easier than ever to communicate that we should embrace the fact that it makes our lives so much simpler.  I don't think it's made our lives simpler (at least mine anyway), just faster.  The human connection that once existed is becoming void and replaced with the pretense of human-to-human interaction.  Ludite?  Perhaps.  

This blogger's not a virgin anymore.