The Zen of Filmmaking: Balance of Heart and Mind |
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Chapter V: The Production Phase
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PURPOSE: This independent educational documentary film follows the daily lives of four members of the Cambridge Zen Center, all meditation practitioners, over the course of four months. The members’ characteristically stressful Western lifestyles as students, teachers, and workers are juxtaposed with their seemingly quiet and relaxed routines at the center. The main purpose of this ethnographic case study is to explore the psychological and neurological effects of Zen meditation on American practitioners. The film traces the psychological development of two novice Zen Buddhist meditation practitioners, an intermediate practitioner, and a Zen Master as they pursue their practice, which is done by documenting the changes in the way they conduct their daily lives and interactions with others during the four months. The film also provides a forum for their self-reflections on the reason for their initial interest in meditation and how they themselves view their mental and emotional transformations. The neurological changes in their brain states during meditation will be evidenced by behavioral studies conducted by Samuel Moulton, a Harvard graduate student of psychology. To supplement the subjects’ testimonies, research conducted by the Mind and Life Institute, an organization working towards an East-West dialog between Buddhist meditation practitioners and Western neuroscientists, are also integrated throughout the members’ course of development, serving as the empirical, scientific basis for the practice of meditation. Through this film, the viewer comes to understand the reason for Zen’s recent popular appeal to Americans: meditation is a way to self-medicate. The American quest to “find oneself” and establish an independent identity has culminated in many of the nation’s psychological and emotional disorders. This film shows that this does not have to be the case, and that Zen offers a natural and safe way to alleviate this problem, which is only one of the many benefits of this practice. METHOD: Shot twice a month over the course of four months, this film documents the different stages at which each practitioner arrives through their practice: the initial stage being the stage of suffering, disillusionment with Western culture and the search for one’s identity; the second stage being that of coming to terms with personal issues and problems with attachment to things and concepts; and the third stage being that of the dissolution of the self, a realization that everything is interconnected and a strong impulse to help others in their suffering. These sentiments will be shown through the members’ daily activities of going to classes or work, dealing with workloads, shopping at the mall or grocery shopping, participating in the center’s communal activities and duties, interacting with other members, classmates, professors, bosses, co-workers, family members, significant others, etc., and, of course, meditating.(1) |
I sent this proposal to my four subjects for approval: Tiffany and Nick
as the two novice practitioners, Barbara (my former yoga instructor) as
the intermediate practitioner, and Mark (my former Zen meditation instructor)
as the Zen Master. Unfortunately, Barbara pointed out my typical, Western-minded
approach of comparing the practitioners at different levels of experience.
She felt that the distinctions were superficial and against the nature
of the practice. She brought up the fact that the Buddhist belief in karma
and reincarnation must be taken into account as factors that could affect
the findings of my study since a practitioner that is just starting out
in this lifetime may have been an adept in past lifetimes whereas a contemporary
experienced practitioner may have only started practicing in this lifetime.
With no possibility of measuring the actual level of experience on a karmic
scale, my scientific empirical study would be an inaccurate portrayal
of my subjects’ practice. Barbara told me that she would still help
me with my project, though she did not want to participate in the behavioral
studies. Likewise, Mark did not feel as though the scientific approach
suited the experiential nature of Zen practice.
After much thought, I decided not to pursue the scientific route and instead
focused on the experiences of the two novice practitioners. Two months
later, I settled on the following proposal, which was approved by Professor
Doherty:
Minding the Self PURPOSE: This independent educational narrative documentary follows the psychological development of two Caucasian meditation practitioners: Tiffany, a highly stressed female Harvard graduate student, and Nick, a young, self-conscious male computer engineer. The film shows the way these two members of the Cambridge Zen Center use meditation to help them with their internal and external struggles. The main purpose of this ethnographic case study is to explore the unique effects of Zen meditation as it is practiced in American society. The film begins by tracing each individual’s history of suffering: the stress that comes from Tiffany’s naturally competitive nature and need to meet societal expectations, as manifested in her academic career; and the mild depression and self-esteem issues that Nick struggled with in high school. The documentary follows their stories to the present, when Nick has been living at the Zen Center for two years and formally practicing meditation for three, while Tiffany has been living at the Center for six months and formally practicing for two years. In the subsequent four months, the film will capture their continuing progress in dealing with their psychological struggles. The documentary will show Tiffany’s increasing devotion to the community while it charts Nick’s tentative plans to move out of the Center and join the “real world.” The film demonstrates that, in either case, meditation is highly effective at giving each person what he/she needs and provides lasting psychological health benefits to American practitioners suffering from modern concerns. Through this film, the viewer comes to understand the reason for Zen’s popular appeal to Americans: meditation is a way to self-medicate. METHOD: Shot twice a month over the course of four months, this film documents the mental and emotional progress of these two members of the Cambridge Zen Center. The psychological effects of their meditation practice will be shown through the members’ daily activities: Tiffany’s classes and academic work, i.e. studying for exams and writing papers at the library or at home, and Nick’s correspondence with the graduate schools and jobs he’s applied to as well as his personal “alone” time practicing guitar. The film will show both participating in the center’s communal activities and duties, trying to meet the center’s weekly points system requirements, interacting with other members, classmates, professors, bosses, co-workers, family members, significant others, etc., and, of course, meditating. Though going into production with a narrow focus, the film will be determined by the two subjects according to events and/or revelations that they will experience during the course of shooting. TARGET AUDIENCE: This documentary is directed towards a sophisticated young adult audience interested in spirituality or who have a curiosity for Eastern traditions. As an ethnographic case study, this film is designed for classroom use in high-schools, colleges and universities that offer classes in anthropology, psychology, religion or philosophy.(2) |
At the beginning of the spring semester, the production phase began, with
the camera in the hands of a student in the film department (Joshua Weinstein)
and the boom pole in mine. Through my previous research, I had found that
meditation is effective in decreasing stress levels for those who live
in a fast-paced, modern society such as our own. It has also been utilized
for psychiatric purposes, curing patients of depression and low self-esteem
issues. The subjects that I chose for the film, Tiffany and Nick, both
claimed that they had started their Zen practice because of these reasons,
and I wanted to make the film as an attempt to capture the positive effects
that their meditative practice has had on their lives. I had every intention
of incorporating the preceding research into my film project.
However, as production began, I realized that my vision depended on the
cooperation of my subjects and therefore was not possible given their
schedules and level of willingness. I came to realize that the subjects
had control of their own stories. As I look back now upon the production
process, I recognize my own Zen experience in the making of the film:
I came to terms with the discrepancy between ideals of Zen and Zen in
practice, balanced my emphasis on words with visuals, realized the interdependent
relationship between filmmaker and subjects, and let go of control over
the film’s construction. In my efforts to cooperate with my subjects
in the construction of the film’s story, I employed many of the
strategies and techniques that ethnographic filmmakers, such as Jean Rouch,
Timothy Asch, and David and Judith MacDougall, used in their films.
To begin,
perhaps a brief explanation of the significance of the order to which
the Cambridge Zen Center belongs would be helpful to establish. The CZC
was founded in 1972 by students of Zen Master Seung Sahn, or Dae Soen
Sa Nim, who was the first Korean Zen Master to bring the Korean Buddhist
teachings to the West. The establishment of the CZC came shortly after
the founding of the Providence Zen Center in Rhode Island, which is now
the head temple of the Kwan Um School, an international organization of
Korean Zen Centers. These Centers all belong to the Chogye Order, which
has been the leading sect of not only Korean Zen, or Son as it is called
in Korea, but Korean Buddhism in general, since its birth in the 12th-century,
boasting 90% of Buddhist followers in Korea today.(3)
Six centuries after the transmission of the Ch’an tradition from
China to Korea, the Chogye school was created by a Son master named Chinul
(1158-1210), who wanted to merge the meditative traditions of Korean Son
and the scholastic doctrines of the Korean ecclesia in response to the
antagonistic relations between these two factions in the three centuries
prior to Chinul’s teachings.(4)
In keeping with the Chinese Ch’an tradition, which stressed the
Taoist principle of yin-yang or the interdependence of all things, this
Buddhist order balances both the practice of meditation and intellectual
cultivation. Contrary to conventional preconceptions about Zen, the study
of sutras and philosophy is actually instrumental in the training of a
Chogye practitioner since they provide the student with a foundation for
experience on which their practice rests.(5)
This connection makes both scriptures and experience important to developing
what Zen Master Seung Sahn calls “don’t-know mind,”(6)
which is the state of mind “before thinking.”(7)
He explains the reason for the use of words in his teaching:
| ...You asked why I use words to teach, if understanding through words is impossible. Words are not necessary. But they are very necessary…If you are thinking, words are very bad. But if you are not thinking, all words and all things that you can see or hear or smell or taste or touch will help you.(8) |
Here, Zen Master Seung Sahn warns that one should avoid falling into
the nihilistic mentality that comes with thinking that language is a negative
thing.
Such an acknowledgement for the necessity of words to be used in Zen practice
is characteristic of Korean Son. According to Robert E. Buswell, a leading
expert on Korean Buddhism, “This unique combination can, with little
exaggeration, be considered the most distinctive Korean contribution to
Buddhist thought.”(9)
Through this nonsectarian approach Chinul effectively merged the two realms
of concept and practice, using one to get to the other: Students “find
the true meaning of the texts through personal experience.”(10)
Such a concern for unity between philosophy and practice marks Chinul’s
openness to diversity of methods for practitioners and his emphasis on
balance.(11)
When
I first began the production process for my film, I was guilty of holding
many biases and presumptions about Zen practitioners. I thought that they
would be laidback and more than willing to cooperate with my project.
On the contrary, Tiffany did not seem to have enough time or patience
to give me what I wanted. It was only towards the end of the shooting
phase that I realized her life was not as simplistic or relaxed as I had
thought it to be and that hanging onto my preconceived notions had prevented
me from seeing the significance of lay life.
As is characteristic of any religion, but particularly of Buddhism, the
Son tradition has become acculturated into the Western lifestyle by practitioners
upon its transmission from Korea to the U.S. Indeed, the Mahayana movement
in general:
| …developed out of the orientation…to minister to the needs of secular adherents of the religion rather than primarily its monastic followers [and] proved to be more adaptable in dealing with the individual needs of their followers, as well as more flexible in responding to differences in social conditions.(12) |
The most significant change that occurred was the shift in emphasis from
Korean monastic practice to American lay practice.(13)
In monastic practice, which is uncommon in the West, one leads a life
completely devoted to the practice of a monk or nun, living in a monastery
away from the turmoil of the conventional world. Simon Young-Suk Moon,
who holds a PhD in Cultural Sociology of Religion and wrote his dissertation
on a case study of Korean monastic practices, states that “[m]any
Korean monks expressed the view that they were not suited to the mechanical
structure of conventional urban life.”(14)
Hence, their sole focus is the strict adherence to the practice, without
the distractions of jobs, school, friends, family, significant others,
or material desire. Indeed, Moon observes that “monks are quite
relaxed these days and free from all the worries concerning finances or
the future but are striving towards only their religious pursuit.”(15)
In contrast, lay practitioners are not separated from the real world,
“with the demands of the workplace and family obligations.”(16)
They “study and practice with pervasive wholeheartedness and also…lead
a life in keeping with their individualized Western upbringing.”(17)
They integrate their practice into their daily lives, some using the practice
as a way to help them cope with the problems that come with constant interaction
with the world. Others are motivated by a spiritual quest or philosophical
inquiry.
Whatever their initial motivations, both monastic and lay practitioners
claim that long-term dedication to their practice eventually leads them
to try to live the “Bodhisattva Vow,” an altruistic ideal
specific to the Mahayana school of Buddhism. They come to realize that
their ideological or personal issues were simply due to their egoistic
perspectives. In other words, their focus on themselves caused their suffering.
As they embark upon the path to ultimate awareness, they begin to see
the value in having a selfless mentality and in offering their services
to others. Moon contends that “[e]ventually, the ongoing monastic
training makes them change their entire perspective.”(18)
As previously mentioned, the two particular subjects that I chose for
my film, both still young novice practitioners, began meditation in order
to help relieve them of stress in one case and mild depression in the
other. The former, Tiffany Reed, is a female graduate student at Harvard
Divinity School, whose workload keeps her stress level high and her cooperation
with my film demands minimal. She had told me in her preliminary interview
that after living in the communal environment for almost half a year,
all she wanted was to “be a vehicle for others.”(19)
Upon reflecting on this, I began to understand that she truly wanted to
help me with my project but had to juggle her commitment with school,
communal responsibilities and community service work. According to Kathy
Park, director of the CZC and former resident of the Mu Sang Sa monastery
in South Korea:
| The structure of the Zen Center is almost like a monastery in Korea [in terms of the practice], except that during the daytime, instead of working in the temple…people who are residents here have outside jobs or go to school…but in Buddhist teaching, this outside job is not a problem. What’s more important is… your inside job.(20) |
The challenge for a CZC member, therefore, is to ensure that their mental
and spiritual energies remain consistent throughout their day, whether
at work or at the Center.
Understanding that Tiffany had only good intentions for my project was
the key to the progress that came in the making of the film. After realizing
the difference between my assumptions about Zen and American Zen in practice,
and letting go of my own selfish agenda, I was able to see the extraordinary
balance between the complexities of American life and the devotion to
rigorous practice that my subjects were able to keep. My film’s
focus then evolved to encompass their individual stories of incorporating
the practice into their American lives, which is not easy but preferable
to monastic life in America because, in Nick’s words, “If
you do not integrate both the spiritual progress and internal experience
with the external realm of experience…then you are not welcoming
every aspect of who you are.”(21)
In the same way, if I did not allow my subjects some control over the
direction of the film and only focused on my own vision, I would be denying
the film the dimension of authenticity.
After viewing Jean Rouch’s Chronique d’un ete (1961),(22)
the film that gave birth to cinéma vérité, I realized
even further the ineffectiveness of forcing my vision upon my subjects.
In this film, Rouch shows a certain degree of respect for his subjects,
taking their feelings and opinions into consideration as he filmed their
responses.(23) At the beginning
of the film, he asks a woman by the name of Marceline if she would help
him with his inquiry by going out into the city and asking passersby about
their level of happiness. Only after she gives her consent does the viewer
become transported onto the street with Marceline conducting her survey.
This segment demonstrates Rouch’s willingness to give his subjects
some control of the direction of his film. He calls attention to this
respect for his subjects again at the end of the film when he shows the
discussion that takes place after their screening of the film. He asks
his subjects for their opinions on the film and includes for the viewer
both their negative and positive reactions, providing an honest account
of the subjects’ responses. Such recognition of their input as participants
in the making of the film reveals Rouch’s belief that films are
products of the filmmaker’s relationship with his subjects. In the
words of MacDougall, “If a film is a reflection of an encounter
between filmmaker and subject, it must be seen to some degree as produced
by the subject.”(24)
At the very beginning of shooting, Tiffany told me that she felt very
uncomfortable with the idea of Josh and I following her around Harvard
campus to obtain footage that would show her role as a student. This posed
a major roadblock for me, and I could not help feeling disappointed. However,
according to Rouch´s and MacDougall´s philosophy, I could
not essentially produce a film if my good relations with Tiffany had been
compromised due to my unreasonable request to impose myself on her academic
territory. This was to be a film about her, and she was entitled to take
part in controlling the direction of it. Such collaboration between the
filmmaker and the subjects is Rouch’s cinematic approach, what he
calls “shared anthropology.”(25)
It points to the ethical considerations with which every filmmaker should
be concerned.
Timothy Asch—who filmed A Balinese Trance Séance
series (1980)(26) in which
his subject, Jero, was integral in the construction of the films—also
learned the importance of treating one’s subjects with respect and
being appreciative of their generosity. He describes the filmmaker’s
responsibility towards his subjects as follows:
| ...We can no longer view our subjects as objects. It is no longer enough to film wherever and however we want for the simple sake of scientific inquiry. Our social contract with our subjects demands that we ask ourselves…whether we can get the footage we need without doing injury to people who have so generously allowed us to live with them and see and understand their most closely-held beliefs and customs.(27) |
By endowing his subjects with human qualities, Asch acknowledges the importance of the filmmaker’s personal relationship with his subjects, rather than the scientific investigator’s relationship with his specimen. As humans with thoughts and emotions, the subjects should be ensured that their well-being is taken care of during the filmmaking process.(28) By realizing the value of cultivating a sensitive rapport with my subjects, I made possible the positive atmosphere that has permeated my film’s process.
The
issue of collaboration arose during the course of shooting between Josh
as a student of film and myself as a student of anthropology. The strategy
that we employed from the beginning of the production process was to edit
the footage that we shot soon after each shoot so as not to be too overwhelmed
by the daunting task of editing at the end of the shooting process. This
method, which is one that Professor Doherty teaches in her Narrative Documentary
Practicum class, seemed to be both efficient and productive since viewing
the footage after every shoot meant that we learned from our mistakes
and were prepared to make up for them on subsequent shoots. Filmmakers
in the field, such as Rouch and Asch, who filmed in undeveloped countries,
did not have such a luxury. However, the MacDougalls acknowledged that
they incorporated the lessons they gained from each of their films into
their subsequent films: “Each film in the MacDougall corpus is a
response to the perceived limitations of the last one.”(29)
We began the editing process with myself digitizing the footage and then
monitoring and guiding Josh in the editing of actions and sequences, ensuring
that the form that they took was in line with my intentions for the film.
According to Asch, who collaborated with anthropologist Linda Connor,
this degree of involvement is vital to the anthropologist’s project:
“Ethnographic film can only be a productive tool for anthropologists
if they can influence the creation of a film at every stage from planning
to editing.”(30) Anna
Grimshaw states that such involvement by the anthropologist “guarantee[s]
the film’s authenticity.”(31)
However, the more we worked together, the more frustrated I became because
Josh did not seem to be capturing some events that I, at the time of filming,
felt was vital to the film’s story. This is an issue that Asch acknowledges
as a recurring problem: “During filming the anthropologist may feel
he or she has no influence because there is no way of knowing exactly
what the filmmaker is seeing through his lens.”(32)
Apparently, Josh was either not cognizant of the import of the events,
or his attention was focused elsewhere at the time. In any case, it was
not necessarily his fault that he did not capture what I wanted since
“[o]rdinarily an ethnographic filmmaker is so concerned with making
film form and film sense out of the images seen through the viewfinder
that it is very difficult to see the larger field of social interaction
that may be affecting the subjects being filmed.”(33)
Asch specifies that it is the anthropologist’s responsibility to
point out the broader context to the filmmaker.
Josh and I also came into conflict regarding the approach and overall
style of the film.(34) Coming
from a film background, Josh envisioned the film to be more a narrative
documentary than the educational film that I intended. During editing,
he focused more on the small stories or completion of actions than on
what information the subjects were giving us. Still attached to my initial
journalistic training, with its characteristic reliance on words, I was
having difficulty understanding this approach. Asch describes a similar
problem between himself and Napoleon Chagnon, the anthropologist he worked
with on his Yanomamo film series:
| As we worked together it became clear that Chagnon wanted to make self-contained, didactic films. It was as though he was writing a lecture on film. The differences between his goals and mine were not apparent in the field…the argument only arises in the editing room.(35) |
Fortunately for us, we were able to catch the incongruence between our
styles of vision early on in the process due to our editing strategy and
were able to come to an agreement that since the film began on my initiative,
the purpose and direction of the film should be under my control. Asch
confirms that such a compromise is the proper solution to this collaborative
issue: “A filmmaker working with an anthropologist must be prepared
to concentrate on the particular research of that anthropologist and accept,
to some degree, the anthropologist’s judgment about priorities.”(36)
However, he qualifies this statement with the condition that the “decisions
must be mutual.”(37)
I came to agree with this point as the work continued, learning more and
more about Josh’s visual and narrative techniques, which allowed
me to view the story and my subjects from another perspective and gave
our approach a more multi-faceted dimension. Linda Connor attests to this
advantage of collaboration in her account of her relationship with Asch:
“I derived many benefits from Tim’s necessarily different
perspective on the field situation. He asked questions about people and
events that challenged me to find new answers or improve upon the information
I already had.”(38)
In this way, Josh and I were able to cooperate with each other and produce
a film to which we both equally contributed.
(1) Vu, Xuan. Documentary proposal.
29 Nov. 2004.
(2) Vu, Xuan. Documentary proposal.
18 Jan. 2005.
(3) Encyclopedia of Religion,
Second Edition. Ed. Lindsay Jones. Hills, MI: Thomson Gale, 2005.
1172.
“Korean Zen (Son).” British Broadcasting Company.
24 April 2005
<http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/buddhism/subdivisions/korean_zen.shtml>.
“Buddhism in Korea.” Buddhist Studies: Buddha Dharma Education
Association & BuddhaNet. 24 April
2005 <http://www.buddhanet.net/e-learning/buddhistworld/korea-txt.htm>.
(4) Encyclopedia of Religion.
Second Edition. 1172.
(5) According to Robert E. Buswell,
“If practice is to be conducted successfully, the average student
requires support from the teachings to explain the course and goal of
practice and to encourage him along that course.” Buswell, Robert
E. Tracing Back the Radiance: Chinul’s Korean Way of Zen.
Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press, 1983. 67.
(6)Sahn, Seung. The Teaching
of Zen Master Seung Sahn: Dropping Ashes on the Buddha. Ed. Stephen
Mitchell. New York: Grove Press, Inc., 1976. 3.
(7) This is the phrase that Zen
Master Bon Haeng (Mark Houghton) has used to describe don’t-know
mind.
(8) Sahn. 13.
(9) Buswell. 39.
(10) “Korean Zen (Son).”
(11) Buswell. 72.
(12) Ibid. 37.
(13)According to Charles S.
Prebish, “virtually everyone who writes on American Buddhism sees
it almost exclusively as a lay movement.” Prebish, Charles S. “Studying
the Spread and Histories of Buddhism in the West.” Westward
Dharma: Buddhism Beyond Asia. Ed. Charles S. Prebish and Martin Baumann.
Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press, 2002. 79.
(14) Moon, Simon Young-Suck.
Korean and American Monastic Practices: A Comparative Case Study.
New York: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1998. 69.
(15) Ibid. 129-130.
(16) Wallace, Alan B. “The
Spectrum of Buddhist Practice in the West.” Westward Dharma:
Buddhism Beyond Asia. Ed. Charles S. Prebish and Martin Baumann.
Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press, 2002. 41.
(17) Wetzel, Sylvia. “Neither
Monk nor Nun: Western Buddhists as Full-Time Practitioners.” Westward
Dharma: Buddhism Beyond Asia. Ed. Charles S. Prebish and Martin Baumann.
Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press, 2002. 282.
(18) Moon. 84.
(19) Reed.
(20) Park, Kathy. Personal
interview. 15 April 2005.
(21) Doolittle.
(22) Chronique d’un
ete. Dir. Jean Rouch and Edgar Morin. Argos Films, 1961.
(23) One could, of course,
argue that Rouch did not show much respect for his subjects through his
technique of provocation, such as the scene in which he asks the African
students what they thought of the serial number on Marceline’s arm,
or what they thought was a tattoo. In this scene, one might suspect that
he was making a point of their ignorance, but Rouch would contend that
he was merely trying to “bring hidden truth to the surface [through
artificial circumstances].” In any case, since I have not employed
this technique of provocation in my own film, it falls outside the scope
of this paper. Feld, Steven. “Themes in the Cinema of Jean Rouch.”
Visual Anthropology. 1989. 240.
(24) MacDougall, David. Transcultural
Cinema. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1998. 156.
(25) Ibid. 242.
(26) A Balinese Trance
Séance. Timothy Asch, Linda Connor and Patsey Asch. Documentary
Educational Resources, 1980.
(27) Asch, Timothy. “The
ethics of ethnographic film-making.” Film as Ethnography.
Ed. Peter Ian Crawford and David Turton. New York: Manchester University
Press, 1992. 197.
(28) In the words of Karl
Heider, “The anthropologist must do everything within his power
to protect [the subjects’] physical, social and psychological welfare
and to honor their dignity and privacy.” Heider, Karl G. Ethnographic
Film. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 1976. 119.
(29) Grimshaw, Anna. The
Ethnographer’s Eye: Ways of Seeing in Modern Anthropology.
New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2001. 123.
(30) Asch, Timothy. “Collaboration
in Ethnographic Filmmaking: A Personal View.” Anthropological
Filmmaking. Ed. Jack R. Rollwagen. London, England: Harwood Academic
Publishers, 1988. 1.
(31) Grimshaw. 130.
(32) Asch. 11.
(33) Ibid. 3.
(34) To be discussed in further
detail in Chapter VI.
(35) Asch. 8.
(36) Ibid. 9.
(37) Ibid.
(38) Connor, Linda. “Third
Eye: Some Reflections on Collaboration for Ethnographic Film.” Anthropological
Filmmaking. Ed. Jack R. Rollwagen. London, England: Harwood Academic
Publishers, 1988. 101.