Visual Methods in Social Research. Marcus Banks
used to be quite common for visual researchers in the social sciences to claim that they work in a minority field that is neither understood, nor properly appreciated by their colleagues (e.g. Grady 1991; Prosser 1998b; cf. MacDougall 1997). The reason, the argument went, is that the social sciences are ‘disciplines of words’ (Mead 1995) in which there is no room for pictures, except as supporting characters. Yet today, interest in visual analysis seems to be growing widely in the social sciences. Visual anthropology leads the way in this, although visual sociology is also a relatively well-established sub-discipline, and visual approaches can be found in other research areas such as social psychology, educational studies and the like.1
There is now an abundant research literature from within cultural studies and most social science disciplines that specifically addresses visual forms and their place in mediating and constituting human social relationships, as well as discussing the visual presentation of research findings through film and photography. Until recently methodological insight has been, however, scattered or confined to quite specific areas, such as the production of ethnographic film.2 Paradoxically, while social researchers encounter images constantly, not merely in their own daily lives but as part of the texture of life of those they work with, they sometimes seem at a loss when it comes to incorporating images into their professional practice.
1.2 An introductory example
Figure 1.2 Early to mid twentieth-century postcard.
Photographer unknown.
So, what can social researchers do with pictures? Take Figure 1.2. It is a photograph, clearly. Eight men sit in a rough line, cross-legged, on the ground about 2 metres or so from the camera. Behind them are some trees, a cart with an ox yoked to it and on the far left of the picture some sort of small structure in front of which sit two other men. The men in the central line are oddly attired – some have white cloths draped across their shoulders but otherwise appear naked except for loin cloths. The faces of some are whitened with paint or ash; they are all bearded and some appear to have long hair gathered up on top of their heads. Several of the men are looking at the camera, and one holds something up to his mouth.
So far, assessing the content of the image has been a matter of applying labels – ‘man’, ‘cart’, ‘cloth’ – which lie within most people’s perceptual and cognitive repertoire, as does the assessment of spatial arrangements: ‘in a line’, ‘to the left of’, ‘behind’. To go much further in a reading of the image requires more precise information. The ox cart, for example, indicates that the scene is probably somewhere in South Asia, while anyone with a familiarity with India will probably guess that these are some kind of Indian ‘holy men’. More specifically, they seem to be Hindu sadhus or ascetics. The man second from the left is actually not attired like the rest – he wears some kind of shirt or coat, and a turban. He is perhaps a villager who has come to talk to them or a patron who gives them alms. Those with more knowledge of Hindu practice may be able to highlight further detail, relating to the patterns of white markings on their faces, the just visible strings of beads some of them wear. Other areas of knowledge might enable us to identify the particular species of trees in the background or the specific construction type of the cart, helping us to guess at the altitude or region. Clearly it is not merely a question of looking closely but a question of bringing various knowledges to bear upon the image.
While such a reading may help us towards understanding what the image is of, it still tells us nothing about why the image exists. To do that, we must move beyond the content and consider the image as an object. It is in fact a postcard, printed upon relatively thick and rather coarse card. The image itself is a photomechanical reproduction, not a true photograph, and although apparently composed of a range of sepia tones, this is an illusion, with only brown ink – in dots of varying size – having been used.
The reverse is marked in two ways (see Figure 1.3). First, the words ‘Post Card’, ‘Correspondence’ and ‘Address’ are printed lightly along the long edge. Secondly, these words are almost completely obscured by handwriting, which reads:
so I shall be home sometime soon
Darling. This card is a real photograph
of some Indian Fakirs who are priests
of their Caste and are supposed
to be very big men by the Natives
here who give them all sorts of
things and money too. I tried to
get you a lovely pair of cushion
covers the other day but the Old
Blighter wouldn’t part with them
but I will get you something soon
Sweetheart if I possibly can. Well
Girlie I shall have to conclude as we
are just going to Water and Feed our
horses but I will write you again if
anything happens so Give My Best
Wishes to Dad + Doris and Best Love
to My Sisters when you go up and
Tons of love and Tight Loving Cuddly
Kisses
from
“Your” Ever true and Afft Loving Boy Joe Good Morning
Mary Darling
BEST LOVE
I will give you that ([pointer to the words ′best love’]) when I come home Sweetheart
Figure 1.3 Reverse of postcard reproduced in Figure 1.2.
So, it is a postcard from Joe to his wife or fiancée Mary. There is no address or stamp and indeed the message appears to be only partial (‘so I shall be home sometime soon…’ seems to follow on from some previous statement) and perhaps the letter was begun on ordinary paper and the whole posted in an envelope. But there is now a completely different reading, one that ties the image’s narrative to Joe’s narrative. Joe’s ‘real photograph’ is a print, not a real photograph, but by ‘real’ he seems to mean ‘there really are people and places that look like this’: he knows what he has seen. He is less sure about what it means – the men are called ‘Fakirs’ and are priests, but they are only ‘supposed’ to be big men. He knows they are given money, which reminds him that he tried to give someone money but the ‘Old Blighter’ wouldn’t accept it, and so on. MB’s own guess is that Joe was a soldier, serving in India towards the end of the Second World War – his mention of the cushion covers reminds MB of a crewel work bag that his own father brought back from Bengal for his mother, subsequently passed on to his wife (MB’s mother), when he was stationed in India with the RAF in the late 1940s.
Now that we have a (partial) reading of the image it remains to sociologize it, to place that reading within the context of a particular social research project. To follow up the story of the ‘Indian Fakirs’ would require some detailed research in picture archives and museums, perhaps trying to trace the company that produced the postcard and then using ethnological and Indological research to identify the sadhus, or at least their sect. By the end, one might have uncovered enough information possibly to locate the sadhus – or at least people who knew them. One could then use the image, and any others if the postcard were part of a series, in the course of an anthropological or religious studies research project. In the course of fieldwork in India with contemporary Hindu sadhus one could produce the postcard during interviews to prompt memories and reflections on the part of the sadhus about changes in Hindu asceticism over the last half