Changing Photo-Ethnography
Ulrich Hägele is one of Germany’s most prominent scholars in the field of visual anthropology and photography. He teaches and conducts research at the University of Tübingen, focusing for many years on ethnographic photography, the history and cultural uses of photographic images, and the relationship between visual practice, scientific knowledge, and cultural representation. A particular emphasis of his work lies on how photographs are created, used, and interpreted in different social and cultural contexts. Through his research and publications, Hägele has significantly shaped the engagement with photography as an ethnographic and scientific medium in Germany. Furthermore, he is committed to visual anthropology and the academic engagement with current developments in photography.
You are known, among other things, as a “photo-ethnographist”—how do the two fields of photography and ethnography connect for you? How does your perspective differ from early perspectives, such as those of Franz Boas or Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson?
U.H.: As an empirical cultural scientist, photographic recording is one of the most important tools in the research field for me. Photography can be used as a participant observer or actively to visually capture and document daily activities, people, objects, or humans depending on the scientific topic. However, photography and film can not only be tools, but also primary subjects of research.
What role do you think photography plays in ethnography today?
U.H.: Participatory photography as a method in the field is also called substitutive photographic questioning. It originated in sociology in the early 1980s. The new thing about it: researchers no longer pulled out their cameras to document, but the subjects were given the task of documenting their daily lives for a week, for example—life within their own four walls, during leisure activities, or at the workplace. Simple Polaroid shots were very popular for this; the equipment was provided to the selected individuals. The researchers then evaluated the resulting images using so-called photo interviews depending on the scientific research question. Another way to participate in research is the photographic diary, which the test subjects also have to keep on a certain question over a period of time with their own images and texts. A disadvantage is the very large amount of work; the advantage: the protagonists can record their environment photographically or cinematically relatively freely without someone from science constantly buzzing around them. However, there is no such thing as an “objective” image. Even the pictures snapped by researchers are not free from subjective perception.
Are there aspects of historical photo-ethnography that are relevant—perhaps even surprisingly—to dealing with generative AI today?
U.H.: Perhaps when you look at the mass character of some collections. Here in a Tübingen archive, we have around 150,000 pictures by Heinz Pietsch, who photographed very unusual pictures of everyday life from the 1950s to the 1980s. Access could potentially be simplified with AI. But before that, all the analog-preserved images would first have to be made digitally readable. And that costs time and money. Otherwise, AI could be used—possibly for teaching and illustrative purposes—to generate images of historical events that never happened. An example would be the video clip circulating on the net with the fictitious, artificially generated interview with passengers and crew members of the Titanic from 1912. Done seriously, it would have to be noted in any case which tool was used and what prompts were entered for it.