ANTHMETHGRP2-2425-MELODIE-SHI

[Last modified: November, 27 2024 11:46 AM]

Upon entering Boots on Tottenham Court Road at 11:30 am on a Friday, the immediate immersion of experience was striking. The fluorescent blue-green light contrasted sharply with the natural sunlight outside, casting an artificial tone over the space. This day, notably, was the first considerably sunny one in a while, amplifying the contrast between the indoor and outdoor environments. The shift in lighting altered the atmosphere of the pharmacy and life-necessities store, making it feel distinctly fabricated. The freezer section, stocked with sandwiches and meal-deal components, was clearly designed for the convenience of commuters. Yet, the buzzing undertones of the light and the cold air emanating from the refrigerators seemed to extend the artificiality, lingering in the air for the duration of my visit.

As I walked through the store, the ambient cold felt almost palpable, heightening the sense of detachment from the sunny day outside. The blue-and-white thematic branding of the space exuded sterility. Without direct contact, the shiny surfaces appeared flat, evoking a sense of nostalgia for a place both familiar and strangely obsolete—like a memory from the bygone decade. The beige-tinted tiles and sleek packaging reinforced this sense of outdated modernity, hinting at a fleeting past. Almost through this dated aesthetic, the layout and design of the store emphasised the essential nature of its goods. The carefully arranged shelves of consumables, seemingly unchanging, indicate a limited engagement, making the experience feel simultaneously mundane and essential.

Amid this sterile atmosphere, the faint chatter of employees stood out. For a moment, their interactions offered a glimpse of humanity within this otherwise neutralised space. It was rare to catch such personal moments in a pharmacy, where only detached professionalism prevails. This brief connection contrasted sharply with the dimmed, impersonal tone of the surroundings, adding a fleeting warmth to the experience.

As I navigated the single floor of this Boots—situated on a street crowded with offices and just off the bustling Oxford Street—I couldn’t help but feel as though the store was a place for people seeking absolute necessities, for a sooth from a lingering unease. Yet, the emptiness of the space, devoid of the usual crowds, felt unexpectedly liberating to traverse across. In this artificial consumer greenhouse, I found myself at ease, conditioned by the environment yet momentarily detached from the chaos outside. The stillness, though manufactured, offered a rare respite in a world of constant movement.

[Last modified: November, 27 2024 11:47 AM]

From the inside, looking at such weather, the initial thought of one’s surroundings would soon be dampened; the sterile and draught quickly shifted to become a privilege countdown of being intruded by the inescapable droplets. However, soon, within a few minutes in the rain, one’s prior concerns for the dampness would soon be overtaken by the mode of movements one’s body quickly adapted. The bodies outdoors and the rhythms of the speed of the moving bodies would have been accelerated in this very context. There seem to be much more concerns about the body’s stability being evenly balanced on the suddenly sceptical surfaces, which we spend too much time trusting and rarely double-take on. There is suddenly much more to be attempted with our senses due to this overwhelming spatial navigation that we have to seek for the clarity of our senses. The rain then could be seen as a catalyst for the body to move faster and act with more attention whilst also having less intention. Walking in the rain, an umbrella to disguise the identity of the individuals, whilst the bodies demanding more space in this weather, is also a moment of individualistic concern. Everyone who arrives at the bus stop has a shared desire to be sheltered or get to their destinations as soon as possible, with less concern about individual positionalities; it frequently only falls into two categories – the individuals with an umbrella and those without one. Though with an attended and heightened bodily sensation state, the body’s spatial awareness suddenly shifts. There is only one intention to stay dry; therefore, the social acceptance of the distances between the bodies suddenly moved to a different mode of operation. The instance of individuals sharing a similar headspace is a rare but frequent occurrence in London. It is just fascinating to be aware of the fact that since rain is a frequently occurring weather, then this mode people operate within is also so integral to our body movements, yet it only appears when the background environment forces us to operate in such an intensified state of movements.

[Last modified: October, 31 2024 10:23 AM]

I positioned myself at UCL’s side gate on Gower Street during the practical exercise. As I observed and recorded notes in a small notebook, I noticed a tension: the act of writing seemed to make people slightly more aware of their actions.

I began without a particular focus but soon noticed some key patterns. Men in green bibs approached people, but I couldn’t determine their purpose. It was interesting to observe people’s reactions to being approached; most were in a hurry, likely between lessons. In central London, where people are often approached by marketers, there’s a common conditioning to ignore strangers with an economic or promotional agenda, prompting most to dismiss approachers reflexively.

The built environment—specifically, a university campus around 11:45 a.m.—was relevant to these interactions. Familiar with the student schedule, I knew people were likely in transit, with few lingering. The limited time likely influenced their responses.

Gendered dynamics in handling these encounters also stood out. I observed some people signalling their desire not to be approached from a distance—about seven meters—using hand gestures, often a trait more common among male passersby. Others chose a detour, quickening their pace to avoid the approaches as if treating them as obstacles. Both genders adopted this form of passive but noticeable rejection. Some did engage briefly, maintaining their pace but responding politely. Interestingly, there was one woman who seemed genuinely apologetic for not having time to stop, in contrast to other people who were unfazed by their rejections.

Material objects involved with such interactions also played a role. The green bibs worn by the approachers signalled their role in the space, marking them as workers distinct from pedestrians. I even noticed the shift change, where approachers, crossing the street, removed their bibs and, in one case, lit a cigarette, a clear indication of moving from work to leisure. Headphones, another frequent sight, served as cues to preoccupation; some removed an earbud to acknowledge an approacher, while others used their headphones as a barrier, signalling a lack of availability.

Throughout, I found myself immersed in my notebook, often glancing up only when I noticed sounds suggesting nearby interactions. The soundscape alone could convey the movement and pace of the space, yet all my observations were inherently subjective, filtered through my interpretations of passersby’s intentions.

[Last modified: October, 23 2024 02:45 PM]

For the research on the phenomenologists’ surroundings and access to materials entangled with their identities and how this impacts their work, I would position myself as another individual in an attempt to find this very question, which my auto-ethnographic method approach would also engage within the research question. Therefore, it is vital to be aware of my positionality.

I am an East Asian middle-class, cisgender woman with access to higher education. This suggests unearned advantages enabling access to education and stability that marginalised communities are denied. These privileges have limited my understanding of the lived experiences of people other than mine. Therefore, I would ensure a better attempt to form more profound knowledge of various participants within my ethnographical research. I recognise my personal interpretation, consciously or subconsciously, would be shaped by such structural advantages and disadvantages throughout my life. However, some of the identities I am associated with may act as a form of interference with the research process. I may not be equally acknowledged for my profession. Therefore, I would have to consider possible alternative methods for my approach.

Meanwhile, I am a researcher who has relocated to London for 5 years. Therefore, London as my work field would be a case of a somewhat settled yet temporal understanding of my surroundings. Also, it is intertwined with my other habituated experiences in different environments, which could be suggested subconsciously. The experience of living here enabled me to gain access to the subject-defined community through my relationship with people in my immediate range of peer practitioners or others who have been situated in fieldwork previously.

[Last modified: October, 23 2024 02:44 PM]

Topic

Phenomenologist’s in transitory spaces

Key words:

temporality, continuity, transitory space, transitory material attachments, embodied experience

Research question

How does an phenomenologist’s access to personal objects in transitory places impact their own perceptions

Phenomenologists in anthropology often use their own identities and consciousness to interpret the findings of their research. During fieldwork, researchers typically immerse themselves in cultures and societies that are unfamiliar to them, frequently inhabiting multiple roles and adapting to the local context. This process allows them to engage deeply with the culture under study.

To conduct ethnographic fieldwork, researchers must distance themselves from their familiar environments—settings that have shaped their personal identities. By doing so, they adopt a different version of themselves to better observe and analyse the local culture. This detachment is necessary for studying and understanding the community from an outsider’s perspective. However, by being removed from their usual surroundings and the material objects that are extensions of their everyday life, researchers may experience shifts in their sense of identity. This raises a question: Does the temporary identity they adopt in the field influence the reliability of their research findings?

Methods

Ethnography, in-depth interviews, auto-ethnography

Potential findings

• How do travelers navigate with limited belongings?
• How can individuals foster a sense of identity in a new location, culture, or society?
• How do people create a sense of understanding and connection in a new place?
• Does the limitation of accessible objects affect a person’s sense of identity?
• Can having minimal material possessions enhance a researcher’s sensory experiences and observations?
• Do the material objects that researchers bring with them create a sense of superiority or distance from the people they study?
• How do people plan for travel when the duration of their stay is uncertain?
• How do individuals manage and move with their material possessions during travel?

• Material fetishisation
• Phenomenology
• Embodied Phenomenology

[Last modified: October, 17 2024 05:01 PM]

During my participant observation around the Bloomsbury area, I found myself in a fitting situation for my research question: “How do a phenomenologist’s or ethnographer’s surroundings, and their limitations to personal objects, impact their findings?” For 45 minutes, I relied on the environment with only pen and paper, documenting my experience while walking and engaging in ‘deep hanging out’ within the space.

I followed my peers, who had also been tasked with seeking a location relevant to their research questions. Our group of four ended up at Waterstones on Gower Street, a consumable collection of paper formats, as well as a coffee shop, stationary and art supply store. This place appealed to both the personal interests of my group members and their attempts to locate their research questions among the texts and tools available.

One of my coursemates, for instance, was researching art and craft communities. She found herself drawn to the art materials section of the bookshop. She reflected on how, due to a recent shift in her country of residence, she hadn’t yet purchased materials such as watercolours and crayons, which once felt natural to possess but were no longer essential to her current life. At home, art materials were readily accessible to her, yet during the summer, she had only reached for them twice. Now, however, she was drawn to this section of the store because it resonated with her research subject. This interaction suggests that these materials, once mundane and ever-present, are now no longer everyday objects for her, though they still feel natural to have access to, even if they aren’t necessary in her current context.

In reflection, for many people, such tools were once abundant and easily accessible without much consideration of their commodity value. A palette of watercolour paints was priced at £64, indicating its commodity value within the shop display. Yet, this value wasn’t so apparent when these tools were part of our childhoods and early institutional lives, where they were integral to expressing our reactions to our surroundings. This tied into readings I had encountered this week, which suggested that infants as phenomenologists, a concept that felt relevant to this observation during the exercise.

As I wandered through the bookshop, I came across a book on women, art, and the spirit world. I had not yet fully defined the scope of my research on phenomenology, but the title seemed intriguing. In it, author Jennifer Higgie explores how, from the 18th century to the present, female artists often found themselves limited by the physical spaces available to them. As a result, the spirit world and other immaterial, supernatural spaces became the field of exploration. As well as the reminiscent of post-war movements like surrealism, where a detachment from the physical world led artists to explore the imaginative, immaterial realms.

As I continued this walking observation, the notion of the ‘flaneur’ came to mind, and with it, the concept of the ‘flaneuse’ as described by Lauren Elkin—female wanderers of the city. In ethnographic observation, understanding the positionality of the observer is crucial. The act of documentation whilst maximising my engagement with the space was something I found myself growing accustomed to.