Mead and Bateson on Art and Documentary
Reading the transcript of a conversation between Margret Mead and Gregory Bateson, I came across this amusing passage of them arguing about art and documentation. It started with Bateson stating that he doesn’t like using a tripod. I have pasted the portion of the conversation below. You can read the entire conversation here. I sympathize with Mead’s reasoning and with Bateson’s proclivity. The conversation is interesting to read in the same way that We Make the Road by Walking is; the people in conversation prove to be engaging in an entirely different way than monologing by generating spontaneous and energetic outcomes (much in line with Bateson’s theories on cybernetics). Seeing this transcribed is like reading a good play. Mead and Bateson have an energetic banter thanks to their former marriage. Freire and Horton lacked this through Freire’s rather controlled academic style, though the two did end up bringing the conversation to interesting places.
B: Yes. By the way, I don’t like cameras on tripods, just grinding. In the latter part of the schizophrenic project, we had cameras on tripods just grinding.
M: And you don’t like that?
B: Disastrous.
M: Why?
B: Because I think the photographic record should be an art form.
M: Oh why? Why shouldn’t you have some records that aren’t art forms? Because if it’s an art form, it has been altered.
B: It’s undoubtedly been altered. I don’t think it exists unaltered.
M: I think it’s very important, if you’re going to be scientific about behavior, to give other people access to the material, as comparable as possible to the access you had. You don’t, then, alter the material. There’s a bunch of film makers now that are saying, ‘It should be art,’ and wrecking everything that we’re trying to do. Why the hell should it be art?
B: Well, it should be off the tripod.
M: So you run around.
B: Yes.
M: And therefore you’ve introduced a variation into it that is unnecessary.
B: I therefore got the information out that I thought was relevant at the time.
M: That’s right. And therefore what do you see later?
B: If you put the damn thing on a tripod, you don’t get any relevance.
M: No, you get what happened
B: It isn’t what happened.
M: I don’t want people leaping around thinking that a profile at this moment would be beautiful.
B: I wouldn’t want beautiful.
M: Well, what’s the leaping around for?
B: To get what’s happening.
M: What you think is happening.
B: If Stewart reached behind his back to scratch himself, I would like to be over there at that moment.
M: If you were over there at that moment you wouldn’t see him kicking the cat under the table. So that just doesn’t hold as an argument.
B: Of the things that happen the camera is only going to record one percent anyway.
M: That’s right.
B: I want one percent on the whole to tell.
M: Look, I’ve worked with these things that were done by artistic film makers, and the result is you can’t do anything with them.
B: They’re bad artists, then.
M: No, they’re not. I mean an artistic film maker can make a beautiful notion of what he thinks is there, and you can’t do any subsequent analysis with it of any kind. That’s been the trouble with anthropology, because they had to trust us. If we were good enough instruments, and we said the people in this culture did something more than the ones in that, if they trusted us, they used it. But there was no way of probing further material. So we gradually developed the idea of film and tapes.
B: There’s never going to be any way of probing further into the material.
M: What are you talking about, Gregory? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Certainly, when we showed that Balinese stuff that first summer there were different things identified — the limpness that Marion Stranahan identified, the place on the chest and its point in child development that Erik Erikson identified. I can go back over it, and show you what they got out of those films. They didn’t get it out of your head, and they didn’t get it out of the way you were pointing the camera. They got it because it was a long enough run so they could see what was happening.
SB: What about something like that Navajo film, ‘Intrepid Shadows?’ 10
M: Well, that is a beautiful, an artistic production that tells you something about a Navajo artist.
B: This is different, it’s a native work of art.
M: Yes, and a beautiful native work of art. But the only thing you can do more with that is analyze the film maker, which I did. I figured out how he got the animation into the trees.
B: Oh yes? What do you get out of that one?
M: He picked windy days, he walked as he photographed, and he moved the camera independently of the movement of his own body. And that gives you that effect. Well, are you going to say, following what all those other people have been able to get out of those films of yours, that you should have just been artistic?
SB: He’s saying he was artistic.
M: No, he wasn’t. I mean, he’s a good film maker, and Balinese can pose very nicely, but his effort was to hold the camera steady enough long enough to get a sequence of behavior.
B: To find out what’s happening, yes.
M: When you’re jumping around taking pictures …
B: Nobody’s talking about that, Margaret, for God’s sake.
M: Well.
B: I’m talking about having control of a camera. You’re talking about putting a dead camera on top of a bloody tripod. It sees nothing.
M: Well, I think it sees a great deal. I’ve worked with these pictures taken by artists, and really good ones…
B: I’m sorry I said artists; all I meant was artists. I mean, artist is not a term of abuse in my vocabulary.
M: It isn’t in mine either, but I …
B: Well, in this conversation, it’s become one.
