Week 2

[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.