Depending on the emphasis of the visual anthropology project, still photos or video or both may play a part in recording, scrutinizing, or presenting the finished work. Compared to the earliest ethnographers packing picture-making equipment (or working with pencil in notebook), the ways to record pictures in still and moving form are numerous. The advent of 35mm roll film in cassettes allowed for compact optical equipment in many configurations. Then the transition to digital recording increased the variety of devices even further. Cameras to record both still and moving pictures are available for “action” conditions of jostling and submersion in FPV (first-person view; in the eye of the subject), ones suited for studio and broadcast conditions, and ones built into cellphones for instant publication online and for impromptu memory-aids at a moment’s notice. Added functions allow panoramic recordings of wide interior or outdoor scenes, time-lapse and slow-motion and rapid-fire “burst” shots, too. In the past decade, affordable and relatively easy to fly UAV (unmanned aerial vehicles; drones) have made bird’s eye views possible. Each recording device innovation opens up new ways to compose and record a subject or context. In the case of a visual recording device mounted to a quadcopter and operated by smartphone app or with remote controller, it is worth asking what the HABU (highest and best use) for drone recording is, generally speaking.
Establishing shots in video or still photography bring readers/viewers into the location filled with details, points of reference, and all sorts of saliencies within a cultural landscape. By launching a drone, weather and local ordinances and courtesies permitting, many more possibilities come into the hands of the participant-observer. As a “sky tripod” the drone can ascend like an elevator to a position AGL (above ground level) that gives a wide view without losing some of the detail. By recording adjacent, overlapping frames a panorama can be stitched. Some drones come with software to make 360-degree “photo spheres” that Googlemaps allows users to upload (e.g. DJI drones). When terrain is hard to traverse (infested, impassable, life-threatening) then moving a camera through the air is efficacious. And when distances are too great, flying the camera into a position to compose a photo or video clip is expedient: if the space is free of obstacles, then traveling at 25 or 30 mph several hundred yards away saves the tired fieldworker from trudging into position. As for point of view, while the closest thing to a natural human perspective is to look forward or slightly down or up, a drone can additionally reveal patterns and movements from directly overhead (down-facing lens, as if by satellite), too. Bigger drones use bigger camera sensors, processors and software to achieve better quality and fine control, but even a more modest UAV can still make useful visual records of a place, an event, or a period of change.
Getting used to a new tool will often proceed through several phases, just as with any relationship one has. At first there may be feelings of novelty, infatuation, and limited confidence in best ways to get full use from the equipment. As such it is easy to overuse the thing, putting it into practice in all sorts of ways just to find out what is possible, productive, and desirable. This is the play phase. As it gets more use, the luster wears off and it may be relegated to niche uses in order to solve specific, recurring problems. But with experience comes more imagination and resourcefulness, leveraging the added confidence that comes with time and practical exercise so that the drone’s typical uses may expand a little more, not restricted to specialized situations only. Perhaps at the final phase of integrating the thing into one’s habits, it begins to feel like an extension of the other lenses and devices, except that this one can fly. Considering some ways better to learn a new technology like UAV with camera(s) is worth recounting for those with an idle device or people hankering to make their own flights.
Do read the manual that comes with the drone, of course. But also browse some of the videos from drone mavens with advice on flying and ones focused on getting good image results in general, as well as ones specific to the device you will be launching. The basic steps on any quadcopter will be similar: making sure all elements have full battery charges (remote controller, cellphone if using the software and touchscreen to navigate, drone itself). Then each gadget gets switched on and the controller syncs to the drone, the drone’s compass (gyro) has to be calibrated and it has to locate itself in reference to cell towers. When everything is in order, then the sequence to take-off and return and then land is good to practice multiple times until little concentration is required. Perhaps there is a “one-button” return signal, as well as a “one-button” launch and another one for final descent and landing. If not, then practicing those common actions is good to master.
As for aerial maneuvering itself, those aerobatic skills depend on how demanding your uses will be. The least complicated flight is the “elevator” example of rising to desired altitude, rotating the lens to frame the shot, then recording the scene — ideally with abundant sun at back or to the side, rather than facing or oblique to the lens. But if ambient conditions are marginal (at the limits of heat or cold for battery performance; chance of precipitation; variable or strong winds; failing light), then only the most skillful pilot-photographer will be able to come away with usable visual material — or by experience know when to quit. Another example that calls for higher levels of confidence and command is when there is a water or other ground hazard to avoid (crash) landing in. The chance of something unexpected causing the drone to crash or run out of power is greater with new drone operators than for old hands. So the best advice is to identify the primary tasks to master and then to practice those to a degree that makes muscle memory a trusted friend.
In general, though, several sub-skills do contribute to overall confidence and command of a drone moving through space as one intends. Practicing some of these exercises should produce better hand-eye coordination and fine-motor control, at least when ambient conditions offer fine flying. Once the routines of launch, return, and landing are mastered, then piloting the drone can be improved by flying in a flat square, a flat circle; then in a square that rises at one end, a circle that rises at one end. By visualizing a bright line to follow in these shapes (or even a flat figure eight or one that rises at one end), the remote control is fully exercised in three-dimensional space: left-right control, forward-reverse control, ascend-descend control. Confining the exercise track to a radius of 5 to 10 yards from the pilot keeps the drone close enough to observe the effects of adjustments vividly. Later, the radius can go to real life conditions at a distance of 30 to 40 yards, for example. While a visual anthropologist has little reason to fly in squares or circles, being able to move the control sticks in coordination is valuable experience so that concentration on flight can take a back seat to attention given to composing a great picture or video sequence of shots. Some pilots learn more quickly than others, but even flyers with many hours of flight time can still benefit from rerunning some of these “calisthenics” in the air.
So much for skills to control the movement and positioning of the UAV. What makes the difference between still or moving pictures that record something valuable, allow repeated scrutiny, or make audiences engage in the scene on the one hand and those that fall short on the other? Negative examples are technical (blurry, wrong exposure, too distant to capture detail, too close to give the adjacent context), compositional (subject is obscured, distracting juxtaposition, too congested or confused to perceive the main subject), and related to timing (recording something before or after the main idea or event being studied). Turning these negative dimensions around, the drone photographer should instead strive to record imagery that is technically as good as the machine allows (including post-processing; editing), well composed so that viewers (self or future viewers/readers) can identify the subject and its context, and well timed in order to capture the most important or at least a fair and representative likeness of the thing. Underlying any kind of photography, in air on land or underwater is the matter of good lighting.
According to the photographer’s aims, subjects may look their best in flattering light, take on added visual interest in dramatic light, or be emphasized (or else downplayed) by particular lighting falling on the main subject. Since “writing with light” is the literal meaning of Photo+Graphos, visual anthropologists taking pictures from the air need to give full consideration to the quality, intensity and character of the light, as well as its angle in relation to the lens and the subject being recorded. So long as the flying takes little effort, then the mind can dwell on getting the right composition and timing for releasing the shutter (or pressing the record button). When the ground is unobstructed, it may be easiest to approach on foot to form the “first draft” of the composition, then launch and confirm the view from higher up, making corrections to the final position as needed before making the “final draft” of the composition. But when ground conditions are more treacherous or time does not allow walking into position, then flying into the “first draft” position is a good starting point. From there it is easy to try a few variations in altitude and position relative to other elements in the picture frame, including angle of the sun (or artificial light source).
Returning to the title of this piece, “Drone Views for Visual Anthropology,” this new tool for visually recording, studying, and publishing/presenting research is something unimaginable to predecessors even a generation or two ago, let alone in the eyes of the early participant-observers of social life in the 1800s and before that. While daily life is experienced, remembered, and dreamt from ground level (occasional tree-height or mountain-top experiences), there really is a great deal to observe from the position of birds and even satellites 60 miles above the surface of Earth and sea. Some colleagues may hesitate to look at the world from above or to one side, seeing the added burden of keeping the delicate gear in working order as being a deal breaker, or simply unsuited to harsh field conditions. But others will find that the point of view is practical and valuable to use. Even for the ones who reject wings, though, even to imagine the views as if the gear were at hand could spark new thinking. So, for everybody engaged in visual anthropology, flyers and non-flyers alike, the world of drone views is worth experimenting with and sharing the results with others.
