The Unfamiliar (E-Journal)

With Irish bars becoming widespread, this article endeavours to identify what it is that makes the brand of \u27Irish Bar\u27 so comforting to its clients

Baker, Clarrie

51 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
The Irish Bar: An Identity Familiar to All
CLARRIE BAKER
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | ©  Clarrie Baker. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1502
Photo: Typical bar interior - aged wood and deep green interior 
displayed in Malones Irish Bar. Prominent Irish brand ‘Guinness’ is 
regularly featured in the bar’s décor. © Clarrie Baker
52The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
The Irish Bar: An Identity Familiar to All
CLARRIE BAKER
Malones Irish Bar is a popular tavern nestled in the heart of Edinburgh. With a wide clientele, ranging from 
students to solitary patrons and a solid branding of being an ‘Irish Bar’, Malones has a faithful following. 
During my ethnographic research it became clear that it was Malones solid branding and identity as an ‘Irish 
Bar’ that stood out as one of the most important reasons for customers to visit the bar. 
So why do Malones customers frequent the bar so regularly? For many it was simply the warm and wel-
coming familiarity of the dark wood interior, the deep green décor and the friendliness of the staff. A student 
informed me that when they visited bars on George Street in their first year at university they felt as if they 
“somehow shouldn’t be there” in a way that they have never questioned their presence at Malones. In fact, 
the feeling that they could unapologetically be themselves without any judgement was a common response 
from patrons, something that seemed to reassure their sense of personal identity – making Malones feel like 
a safe space. Students reported not feeling like a secondary customer or stereotyped in the way they feel they 
are in other bars. Solitary individuals who came to watch sport said they enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere and 
the feeling that they could come alone without it seeming unusual. Sports such as rugby and football are reg-
ularly televised, incorporating supporters of both of Irish and non-Irish teams into the bar’s identity through 
the unity of sport and promotes the Irish brand through this shared team spirit. This leads me onto the second 
component of how I determined identity to be the most prominent theme at Malones.
What is it about Malones that evokes this sense of security amongst clientele? Undeniably there is no ‘us and 
them’ mentality like a stranger entering a village pub; perhaps this is something that doesn’t occur in a city? 
Through my observations and discussions with participants I established that the branding of an Irish bar is 
one of its selling points. Everyone I spoke to, regardless of their nationality has Irish bars in their country of 
origin. I even found myself in an Irish bar in Turkey last summer. It therefore appears that the Irish bar has 
gradually evolved into a brand that appeals to all as a symbol of familiarity with the recognisable wood and 
deep green interior, adorned with shamrocks and Irish flags. Thus, Malones has become familiar in Edin-
burgh because everyone can identify with it and relate it to the naturalness of home, and this is how the bar 
has established its persona. By playing on the idea of ‘home’ and comfort the bar attracts a broad clientele, 
which shows that the Irish bar brand is a successful one. Whether this feeling of comfort derives from the 
‘Irish’ aspect of the bar or the familiarity of the brand of Irish bar is not something that can be answered from 
my research in one bar. 
Ultimately, it looks like the identity and brand of the ‘Irish bar’ is widespread and that it promotes the feeling 
of comfort and familiarity experienced by its patrons. It is this brand and identity that is part in characterising 
Malones as a friendly place to spend one’s free time. The ‘Irish Bar’ is not a place of ‘self-discovery’ but 
somewhere that patrons can go with confidence in their identity, without worrying about false pretences or 
how they feel they should be acting. The theme of identity therefore manifests itself in the idea that neither 
the bar nor its clients need to change in order to fit in.


English

The Irish Bar: An Identity Familiar To All

Lovell-Smith, Gideon Francis

Bolton, Becca

Silovsky, Laura

The Union Canal

Arnarsdóttir, Hörn

Anderson, Nicole

Nimtrakul, Perry

53 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
‘Iamb A Poet’: An Anthropological Study Of 
The Art Of Spoken Word 
HÖRN ARNARSDÓTTIR, 
NICOLE ANDERSON & PERRY NIMTRAKUL
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Hörn Arnarsdóttir, Nicole Anderson, Perry Nimtrakul. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI: http://dx.doi.
org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1503
54The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
‘Iamb A Poet’: An Anthropological Study Of The Art Of Spoken Word 
HÖRN ARNARSDÓTTIR, NICOLE ANDERSON
& PERRY NIMTRAKUL
Introduction
The lights start to dim. The hum of chatter quietens. All eyes rest upon the stage. The time has come for an-
other monthly poetry slam: 
 “You’ve put a divider to separate the clean dishes and the dirty ones
 Oh, just kidding      [Wagging her finger  at the audience]
 That’s the white china and everything else  [Shouts and cries of agreement]
 You know what would be more effective is if you built a giant wall       [laughter]
 But I guess prejudices have worked pretty well this far.” (Jess Smith)
Jess Smith, a twenty-something female, organiser of Soapbox and prolific poet, is performing her piece on 
American politics. The audience is riled. There are shouts, laughter, and murmurs of agreement at each af-
front. The words are spat with venom, yet ridiculed with a smirk. It is the second round and five poets are 
battling to enter the final.
From January to March, we conducted fieldwork at ‘open mic’ spoken word and poetry slam events 
in Edinburgh. Our ethnography was based on investigating the function of spoken word and slam poetry as 
an art form, focussing on Soapbox – the open mic nights in the Pleasance Cabaret bar. We examined the at-
mosphere, the art of performance, and how the political is both created through the act of performing as well 
as inscribed in the space. As the poems are intended for an audience, they have become a platform to express 
identities and political nuances. Furthermore, the attributes of the performance facilitate the communication 
of political identities, views, and expressions.
During our fieldwork, we encountered colourful people, emotional stories, passionate performances, 
and enormous talent. Through interviews, weeks of ‘audience-dwelling’, and even performing on stage, we 
developed a sentimental attachment to the craft of spoken word poetry and the community that surrounds it. 
This article reflects on our emotional reactions and experiences, especially in relation to specific monographs 
and moments. 
Interviewing (and Response)
Interviewing in general was something quite unfamiliar to all of us. However, it seemed intrusive and almost 
rude to pry too much into some aspects of the performers’ poetry – for example, issues such as mental health 
or the emotional expression involved in writing and performing poetry. We found this to be the case with 
performances too – introspective pieces in particular – which felt too personal [profound?] to be recorded in 
scribbles mid-performance. However, these performances were being put into the public sphere, available for 
anyone to consume, and this publicity is often what makes the performance so powerful and therapeutic for 
the performer and audience alike. 
Interviews proved to be very insightful in our fieldwork as they uncovered aspects of performing 
and writing that we had not considered before, changing the way we viewed the performances later in our 
research. For example, Jess Smith discussed the way in which audience reaction can change the meaning 
and therefore the performance of a poem. She shared the example of her own poem which she intended to 
be frightening, but while performing it, realised that it was funny at its core, drastically changing how she 
subsequently performed and understood it as the reactions changed.
55 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
FIG 1: Jess Smith performing her piece on American politics 
on stage. © Hörn Arnarsdóttir, Nicole Anderson
& Perry Nimtrakul
56The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
We found that our interviewees were more than happy to discuss their poetry, and difficult topics 
were often easily brought up by our interviewees themselves. A particular moment that struck us was during 
an interview with one of the hosts, Chloe1. Despite it being one of our first encounters, she was incredibly 
open in her responses, especially when she spoke about her experience of spoken word and mental health. 
She revealed how, despite her struggles, being involved in such a close-knit, warm community helped her 
through her illness. 
This was particularly interesting because it illustrated that behind the lights, stage, and performance 
is a network of people who work to support each other. Looking back, it became very clear that there were 
many regular poets who joked with each other and complimented each other’s work. As the host, Chloe was 
particularly well-connected, introducing the acts with personal anecdotes and stories of the more well-known 
performers. The worth of the poetry extends far beyond the performance, having the capacity to empower, 
strengthen, and bring value to the individuals involved.
This community supports each other not only through their presence at events such as Soapbox, but 
also through their responses – whoops and shouts of encouragement during the anger-fuelled, politically 
inclined preaches; clicks of agreement during compelling and relatable ballads of difficult times; hoots of 
laughter and mocking heckles during pun-filled comedy pieces. Even during poetry slams where the perform-
ers were competing with each other, we never witnessed anything but mutual respect and encouragement 
from the competitors. 
In a space where personal and taboo topics become public, it seems unthinkable to respond with 
anything but respect and encouragement, and we were pleasantly surprised by the level of support. Of course 
there were times when some responses were inappropriate, but this seemed to be intuitional [intuitive? unin-
tentional?]. During quiet, introspective pieces, it would be rude to interrupt with a loud cheer, and applause 
and cheers were generally kept for the end, or at appropriate times during a particularly inspiring piece, much 
like one would display appreciation at a classical music concert or at a comedy show. One response in partic-
ular which caught our interest was the clicking of fingers during performances. Initially, it seemed odd, but 
soon we were clicking our fingers too, displaying our agreement without disrupting the performer and the 
poem with a cheer or clap.
Performing
We soon realised that in order to be completely immersed in the spoken word scene, we must experience 
performing too. The stage in itself seemed terrifying. Raised above, basking in a white glare, it physically 
and metaphorically separates the performers from the audience. The superiority of the performer and their 
message is inscribed in the separation of the audience from the performer — in the blanket of darkness over 
the audience in contrast with the illuminated performer.
However, from the performer’s perspective, the scene looks very different. You cannot see anything. 
The audience is invisible, made undetectable by the white glare and the heat of the stage lights. Strangely, 
it made us feel less exposed, anonymous even. The rush of applause that followed our performances felt 
warmer than the lights. 
Rewarded for our courage with applause, we realised how performers become so passionate. Per-
forming our pieces filled us with adrenalin and the audience reaction made us feel valued, leaving us with a 
sense of satisfaction that made us all want to perform again. Perhaps it was the initial fear that sparked that 
relief, but there is definitely something gratifying about being listened to. It felt as if, at that moment, no 
matter what you said, or how you said it, you would be given attention and intent. 
The importance of this positive atmosphere was obvious to us when we considered the creation of a 
1. Some names have been changed for discretion. However, Jess Smith asked to be named in our final work.
57 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
‘safe space’ and a supportive network. However, its importance in performance only really struck us when we 
interviewed poet Jess Smith, and when we performed ourselves. The aim of the poet is, essentially, to change 
the mood in order to create a response. Between our three performances, we aimed to do just that, but with 
three vastly different performances. Varying from rude comedy and puns to deeply personal and emotional 
responses, each of our poems were of very different styles, reflecting the image we were comfortable depict-
ing and responses we were comfortable receiving from the audience. 
We noticed immediately that there seemed to be a ‘conventional’ style or rhythm to the poems — at 
least to the more politically charged poems. Through our interviews and observations, we gleaned the interest 
of many of the performers in North American ‘Button Poetry’ videos, who adopted the styles and rhythms 
from these videos to create their own poems. We decided to look further into these videos2 since they in-
fluenced our informants so heavily. Soon enough, our own poetry emerged like a butterfly from a cocoon, 
transformed by the influence of these fast-paced, rhythmic, politically charged and hard-hitting poems.
Political Expression
Heavily reliant on presentation, spoken word is different from written poetry. Its worth, purpose and life is 
created on stage. Somers-Willet (2005:52) emphasises this, stating that slam poetry “is written with the audi-
ence in mind”. This became clear to us when we spoke to Jess and while writing our own poems. We found 
this particularly important on a personal level in making sense of raw emotions in order to perform them for 
an audience. 
The act of introspection involved in spoken word by a subjugated individual becomes an active form 
of resistance, and a performance of rejection in which they refuse to continue to be a subject of oppressive 
structures of power. Subjectivity is an innate and imposed performance by the subject in everyday life, done 
infinitely and repeatedly in a production that carries through generations (Butler, 1993: 95).  The political 
was often discussed in poems at Soapbox, from direct challenges of American politics to personal accounts 
of sexism and racism. By dredging up these innate performances, and becoming conscious of subjectivity 
through reflexivity, the poet may be able to counteract this feeling of oppression, however briefly. 
This is seen in the use of spoken word by American black inner city youth to create alternative 
teachings which dispute the negative stereotypes imposed on them by racist institutions (Biggs-El, 2012: 
163-164). Furthermore, it can be seen in mainstream spoken word videos, such as those mentioned by our 
interviewees, where poets often focus on racism and sexism — such as police brutality cases in the US, and 
university campus rape culture. This creates moments of consciousness that allow the critique and decon-
struction of structures of subjugation, by subverting normative representations that are part of oppressive 
structures of power (Butler, 1993: 3).
We also found that introspection was important in performances at Soapbox. One such performer is 
Laurence, winner of the March Poetry Slam and an experienced, striking spoken word artist. His final poem 
at the March Poetry Slam tackled the issue of male suicide, highlighting the underlying shame that contrib-
utes to the problem due to the stereotypical image of masculinity. This performance, we found, was the pinna-
cle of the techniques of tone, voice, and intonation, his words swelling and rising with his anger. Hard-hitting 
and frightening, the volume carried out the strength of his feelings. Some lines were quick, almost like rap, 
expressing his frustration towards the stigma of male experiences of mental health. The exertion brought out 
beads of sweat on his forehead. 
The audience clapped as the poem peaked — an unusual practice in spoken word, as discussed 
2. “Dear Straight People” - Denice Frohman, Women of the World Poetry Slam 2013
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5frn8TAlew0
“Black Girl Magic” - Shasparay Lighteard, Woman of the World Poetry Slam 2016
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XwhVnBoSVE
“Somewhere in America” - Belissa Escobedo, Rhiannon McGavin, and Zariya Allen, members of the Get Lit organi-
zation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OadZpUJv8Eg
58The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
above, where clicking the fingers is used to quietly signify agreement. The style and performance created 
fear at the intensity of his words and the sheer force of his resentment. This performance, even now, resonates 
in our minds; Laurence’s fists pummelling the air, the jump of his feet as the poem swells, his screams into 
the microphone. It exemplified, we felt, the true influence of spoken word poetry. Not only does it convey a 
message and a story, but it allows the listener to relive it and feel it along with the performer.
The realising of experience and ideas into a corporeal form is the transformative power of this art 
form. It empowers those who are constantly marginalised in everyday life, serving as. a medium for them to 
challenge stigma and taboos through an introspective exploration of their lived experiences. Consequently, 
spoken word poetry prompts the listeners to do the same.  Its emotional aspect is one of the reasons for its 
effectiveness in political resistance.
Conclusion
At the end of each performance, as the buzz of chatter builds and the audience begins to leave, we are left, as 
always, feeling entertained, content, and renewed. After the last poetry slam in particular, we left in awe. This 
experience has not only made us realise the importance of spoken word and the power of performance poetry, 
but also how each poem is a work of art that has the ability to transform both its performers and audiences.
The very fact that the poets attribute their work with meaning (whether it is from their personal expe-
riences or not), literary and poetic techniques, and the display of their poetry in this specific space proves that 
it is intended for artistic consumption. Slam poetry can be seen as an art form entered into a mutual exchange 
with its space of personal meaning, performative techniques and atmosphere. Each component creates and 
recreates each other.
A space and a community in which the performers are able to express their opinions, their experienc-
es and themselves is created. This is a space where the political becomes art and where the subjugated can 
refute the roles created for them by society. This is a space where taboos become not only acceptable, but are 
even encouraged.
This fieldwork was not only valuable from an academic perspective but also personally to all of us. 
We have each discovered a new interest in spoken word and Edinburgh’s spoken word community. In per-
forming, we have all experienced writing and performing for an audience. In attending the poetry nights, we 
have seen through the performers’ eyes, and glimpsed their plights and emotions through their poetry.
References
Biggs-El, C. (2012) ‘Spreading the Indigenous Gospel of Rap Music and Spoken Word Poetry: Critical Ped-
agogy in the Public Sphere as a Stratagem of Empowerment and Critique’. The Western Journal of 
Black Studies. 36 (2): 161-168.
Butler, J. (1993) Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits of ‘Sex’, New York: Routledge. 
Somers-Willett, S.  (2005) ‘Slam Poetry and the Cultural Politics of Performing Identity’. The Journal of the 
Midwest Modern Language Association. 38 (1): Special Convention Issue: Performance (Spring, 
2005):51-73.


Iamb a Poet

Burgess, Alice Emily

75 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
Yoga in Edinburgh: For the Mind or For the Body?
ALICE BURGESS
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Alice Burgess. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1536
76The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
Yoga in Edinburgh: For the Mind or For the Body?
ALICE BURGESS
Yoga in Edinburgh: For the Mind or for the Body?
It is hard to imagine a practice in which individuals might chant a sacred song from thousands of years ago; 
activate their quadriceps until their legs shake; send their feet soaring into the air, pressing their palms into 
the earth; observe flickering candles in every corner; or sweat profusely alongside high-tech ellipticals. Yet 
all these activities are possible components of the practice of yoga in the 21st century, as observed in Edin-
burgh, Scotland, over the past months. This diversity prompts questions as to why an individual would be 
drawn to one approach over another – what aspect of themselves are they attempting to cultivate? How does 
the practice enrich their mind, body, and soul?
 In this ethnography, I aim to discuss the broader themes of spirituality and individuality that unite the 
practice of yoga1. However, I also aim to focus on the significant differences between yoga classes held in 
two different settings: the gym and the studio. These distinctions (described by the students and teachers who 
identify with these spaces) become apparent when considering: 
● an individual’s underlying motivations
● the variation found in the language used to conceptualise breath, along with the positioning of the 
physical body
● how all of these elements interact with the individual’s lived experience of the practice.
Context
We quickly realised that each yoga practice could be classified into two distinct settings or approaches: the 
“gym approach” and the “studio approach”. We chose to actively participate in yoga classes offered at two 
gyms (Centre for Sport and Exercise CSE, and the state-of-the-art Pure Gym facility) and three studios (Soul-
Shine Studio, the upstairs rooms in the University-owned religious sanctuary named “the Chaplaincy”, and 
1. This essay is based on a longer ethnography produced by Ellis Reilly, Lauren Durward (also students also enrolled 
in “Ethnography: Theory & Practice”) and Alice Burgess.
FIG 1: Informants 1 (left); Fig 2: Informants 2 (right)
77 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
the Yoga Society’s classes at “Gathering Essence”).
 With respect to spatial layout, gym classes were often held in sterile rooms lined with mirrors. In 
some cases, the yoga class was directly adjacent to other gym members using treadmills and free weights. 
Fast-tempo music and the sounds of nearby machines were constant. While the focus of the class was on the 
individual body (and its external appearance), the group setting in gym classes was one of rivalry – students 
were aware of others around them, their levels of  ability, and their own appearance at all times.  The studio 
classes included dim lighting, artwork or tapestries, and comforting elements like blankets, candles, or soft 
background music (either East Asian chants or instrumental). From the layout to the imparted lessons, being 
happy with oneself and making personal progress in a group setting was the guiding force.
Universal Themes of Yoga
While we discerned these two distinct approaches to the practice of yoga, there were certain unifying themes 
that were the foundations of each and every class, irrespective of the setting. These included the sacred nature 
of the ancient practice, the body-mind duality, and modern trendiness.
 The word “Yoga” is derived from the Sanskrit verb “yuj” which means “to unite”, emphasising the 
union of the “mind, body and spirit” (Garrett 2011: 2405). For thousands of years in India, yoga referred to 
both “a state of cosmic consciousness and the disciplined practice” that led to a state of “ultimate spiritual 
union” (Swan 2012: ix). Studio and gym yoga teachers alike have embraced yoga’s holy past. CSE teacher 
Eva stated, “The philosophy was created more than 2,000 years ago by people who were the rebels, the 
punks, because they didn’t believe in the Brahman and all those rituals – they went to the forest and that’s 
where yoga was born.” Ultimately, the philosophy of yoga has endured over centuries because it has proven 
to be “amazingly effective at explaining how to live in accordance with nature for greater health, happiness, 
and wisdom” (ibid: ix). 
 The overriding goals of modern yoga are “to establish a balance between the internal and external self” 
(Garrett 2011: 2405) – although, as our field work indicated, the level to which the practice focuses externally 
or internally varied massively. The internal self (mind and soul) is thus intrinsically linked to the external 
(body) – a “duality”. In fact, the physical activity aspect of yoga prompts higher fitness and “positive effects 
on brain chemistry”, and the additional focus on “relaxation and personal integration” allows for “mindful 
awareness and personal acceptance” (Ibid: 2405). Furthermore, from a “biopsychosocial” perspective, yoga 
has positive effects on psychosocial functioning including “self-efficacy, coping, depression and anxiety” 
(Ibid: 2405).
 As Hunt (2010) elucidates, there has been a huge increase in the number of yoga practitioners across 
Great Britain over the past two decades. By 2008, there were approximately 2.5 million (ibid: 17); a major-
ity of yoga participants in the UK are female, white, college educated, and middle class,(Ibid: 223) which 
matched the demographic data revealed in our research. . 
FIG 3:  A Pure-Gym yoga space (left); an example of a studio class held in the Chaplaincy (right). 
78The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
 However, teachers in both studio and gym contexts feel that yoga has been somehow corrupted. Chap-
laincy teacher Maggie says that beneath it all is a “deep emptiness and pressure” pointing towards “a collec-
tive need for deeper consciousness.” Meanwhile, CSE teacher Eva stated: “The Western approach to yoga is 
completely misunderstood. Now it’s all about selfies and expensive mats and having a good bum or nice legs 
– that doesn’t make any sense to me.” While the teachers from both the gym and the studio expressed similar 
sentiments, the two approaches had fundamental differences.
What Motivates Yoga Students?
As Farmer (2012: 157) notes, “Yoga has never been a stable entity; it can mean almost anything to almost 
anybody”. Thus, we first considered why the individuals we encountered in both the gym setting and the 
studio setting chose to practice yoga. 
 Those interviewed within the gym setting placed predominantly more value on the physical side of 
yoga and fitness benefits as their main motivation. CSE student Beth Anne claimed, “I began practicing yoga 
at 16 because I was playing a lot of sports, and I thought the stretching element would be good.” Debbie 
described the practice as “one of the cool, hip things to do right now”, and initially felt pressured to get the 
“post-baby body that so many glossy magazines perpetuate”. Finally, Laura corroborated her approach to 
yoga as primarily a workout. She revealed, “Yoga is a far more intense, tiring form of exercise than I first 
assumed.”
 Individuals who attended classes within the studio setting tended to place higher regard on spirituality 
and mental wellbeing. Domenic explained: “My goal for yoga is self-actualisation. It’s  self-growth – I’m 
building growth as a person mentally.” For SoulShine teacher Evelyn, who suffered from anxiety for years, 
yoga offered a tangible solution: “Practicing yoga led to discovering mindfulness. Now I feel both physically 
and mentally healthy, and that has finally led to me having a good quality life.” Chaplaincy teacher Maggie 
sums up this concept eloquently: “I use the words yoga and meditation interchangeably. I haven’t graduated 
from the practice; I don’t think anyone ever does.” 
 Ultimately, participants’ motivations could be split into one of two models: the fitness model and 
the spiritual model, which aligned with whether the individual was participating in a class within the gym 
setting or the studio setting, respectively. This division is corroborated by Penman (2012), who reports that 
participants motivated by “increased flexibility/muscle tone” were a different group than those who aimed 
to “reduce stress or anxiety” (Ibid: 151). It seems that the desire for a better quality of life and to improve 
oneself unites all yoga practices, but whether this is done with a focus on the external or the internal differs.
Language of Breath and the Body
Breath is an experience regularly taken for granted, yet is intrinsic to participants’ understanding and bodily 
experience within yoga: “In the accomplished yogi, mind, body and breath are brought (as part of deepening 
practice) to interact with each other”, highlighting the connection between our internal notion of breath and 
our external form (Hess and Napoli 2008: 337). It has been suggested that breath is the most powerful tool 
to quiet the mind, especially in our fast-paced modern world (Buckingham and Degen 2012: 333). While 
paying close attention to an automatic somatic function is just a concept at first, over time, students learn to 
consciously observe and control their experience of their own body – the essence of yoga.
 Within the gym setting, breath remains very much a side note. While core poses often match those in 
studio classes, reminders to breathe were be given specifically to deepen a stretch and get maximum muscu-
lar benefit. At the gym, breath functioned as a verb, while in the studio, it functioned as a noun – a tool that 
enabled an individual to “find their center”, an aspect of conscious agency. A studio teacher stated: “Let your 
breath travel to any areas where you might hold tension: your legs, your shoulder, your back.” Despite our 
first instinct to question the sheer impossibility of sending a breath to a specific area, in the position of partic-
ipant observers, we found ourselves becoming more aware of our own breathing via embracing the “focused 
breath” (where the breath is a metaphysical object that can be applied, akin to a healing remedy, to the body). 
79 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
 In addition, the language used within the class addressing the physical body emerged as a key area of 
anthropological interest. Within the gym environment, we consistently found that terms were literal and di-
rections were precise. For example, “Turn to face the purple back wall” was used to describe the positioning 
of a seated spinal twist. Common yoga terminology was used (such as “cobra”, “downward-facing dog” and 
“warrior II”). However, the authentic Buddhist, Hindu and Jain names were never used within this setting, 
and instead, appearance-centered language (i.e. developing abdominal muscles for “bikini bodies”, or hold-
ing a pose to create a “tight bum” or “toned legs”) was commonplace. 
 In contrast, in the studio setting, organic metaphors and nature-inspired imagery were frequent. Stu-
dio classes also focused on the inner organs of the body. Chaplaincy teacher Maggie constantly referred to 
strengthening the central nervous system, cleansing the digestive system, and activating the sex organs, en-
suring all systems were in concordance. 
How Do All of These Elements Inform the “Lived Experience” of the Practice?
Themes of togetherness, individuality, competition, and self-care emerged when discussing participants’ 
opinion of, and emotions during, their practice. Whether students were affiliated with the gym or the studio, 
the group dynamic of the class was viewed in a positive light. Naomi of the Yoga Society stated that she found 
it crucial to “enjoy the presence of the other people around you – and let that help you focus”; the spiritual 
comfort of being surrounded by like-minded peers was what kept her coming back week after week. Chap-
laincy teacher Maggie believed the studio approach helps people realise the possibility of existing amongst 
others and looking inwardly concurrently: “Once you see everyone has positives and negatives, you’ll have 
more compassion for other people who might do things you don’t necessarily agree with.” 
 While studio students reported closing their eyes and accepting their own bodily limitations, the gym 
students embraced the competitive nature of the shared space as an inspiration to push themselves physically. 
While he now finds yoga to be a relaxing way to keep his body in top condition, PureGym student Ed felt 
such worry about attending the class at first that he watched tutorials on YouTube so as not to “make a fool” 
of himself in the high pressure fitness environment. Despite enjoying the group presence, CSE student Beth 
Anne found classes at the gym to be far more competitive than her past studio experiences – she was aware 
of everyone around her, and their fitness level versus her own.
 Yoga Society member Domenic found that yoga in the studio not only avoided generating a compet-
itive vibe but presented concrete methods to deal with complex feelings of envy or self-doubt. Domenic 
stated: “If you don’t care how other people look at you or what they think about you, it’s so refreshing and 
powerful. If you’re happy within yourself, that’s what matters.” Nicola of the Yoga Society commented that 
her spiritual strength that has arisen from her yoga practice has allowed her to “keep a level head and show 
empathy – especially at work.” These sentiments are reflected in literature; Buckingham and Degen (2012: 
334) state that yoga can offer deeper insights into humanity as it both “enables the expansion of one’s own 
bodily knowing, and heightens the awareness of the non-verbal knowing of others” .
 Ultimately, the gym approach was more about the “trend” of yoga – a way to cleanse your mind while 
building a flexible, toned, strong body. Informed by ancient wisdom, the gym approach was centered on the 
individual, yet was fueled by a culture of comparison and competition. Far from stress-free, the environment 
was one of bright lights, constant motion, and an externally focused dialogue. In contrast, the studio practice 
aimed to embrace the link between the mind, body, and spirit. Chaplaincy teacher Maggie felt the key to yoga 
is the internal journey: “It doesn’t matter if you are bendy and can fold yourself up and stand on your head, 
or if you sometimes need to just sit in a chair. It is all about bringing yourself to the practice and meeting it 
wherever you are.” Studio students felt that yoga would be a practice that they used to ground themselves for 
years to come – a nourishment of the soul and a lens to view the self and offer crucial perspectives. 
 However, despite these differences in students’ and teachers’ “lived experiences” of the practice, self-
care (setting aside valued time for simply taking care of oneself) was an aspect valued by both the studio 
and the gym approaches. CSE student Beth Anne said that she feels refreshed leaving the practice, and the 
80The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
complete zen can realign not only her spine but also her spirit. According to CSE teacher Eva, the busiest 
people are the ones who need the wisdom of yoga the most – for both the physical relief it provides and the 
meditative clarity. Though yoga is linked to a number of religions, there are many (such as our informant 
Nicola of the Yoga Society) who believe yoga is a religion for people who aren’t religious. She commented, 
“You can bring yourself to the mat no matter what you are going through. It’s just you and the mat.” She feels 
that her newfound priority to come to the mat and practice self-care has made her a well-rounded and happy 
person. Across the board, we found that yoga helps people to attain happiness, either in the form of a healthier 
and fitter physique or greater mindfulness.
Conclusion
There are universal aspects that unite all yoga practices (namely, the sacredness of the ancient practice, the 
body-mind duality, and the modern trendiness) yet there are components that differ dramatically in gym and 
studio settings. Those attending gym-style classes were motivated by the prospect of fitness, whilst those 
attending studio-style classes concentrated on improving their mental wellbeing. As far as  the language 
describing breath and the body is concerned, in the gym, breath was an aerobic aid; in the studio, breath was 
a transformative tool. Finally, an individual’s conception of their place within the practice illuminated their 
“lived experiences” – whether they sought competition or collectivism, an external challenge or an internal 
lens. These lived experiences transcended yoga and impacted participants’ daily lives.
 Ultimately, no matter what first brought people to the mat, the vast range of benefits inspired them to 
return. The common curiosity and desire for change confirms that  many yoga students are indeed on a jour-
ney of personal improvement. No matter the course of one’s journey through yoga, the fact that everyone is 
on a journey in the first place remains at the heart of this ancient discipline.
FIG 4:  Yoga students lie quietly during the final meditation.  (All photos © Alice Burgess)
81 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
References
Buckingham, S. & M. Degen. (2012) ‘Sensing Our Way.’ The Senses and Society. 7 (3): 329-344.
Farmer, J. (2012) ‘Americanasana.’ Reviews in American History. 40 (1): 145-158.
Garrett, R. (2011) ‘Becoming Connected: The Lived Experience of Yoga Participation After Stroke.’ Disabil-
ity and Rehabilitation. 33 (25): 2404–2415.
Hess, S. & D. J. Napoli. (2016) ‘Energy and Symmetry in Language and Yoga.’ Leonardo. 41 (4): 332-338.
Hunt, C. (2010) Yoga Practice in 21st Century Britain: Lived Experience of Yoga Practitioners. Doctor of 
Philosophy in Health Study Thesis. De Montfort University.
Penman, J. (2012). ‘Yoga in Australia: Results of a National Survey.’ International Journal of Yoga. 5 (2): 
92-101.
Ryding, C., C. Rudebeck, & B. Mattsson. (2004) ‘Body Awareness in Movement and Language: Concor-
dance and Disparity.’ Advances in Physiotherapy. 6(1): 158-165.
Swan, L. S. (2012). Yoga Philosophy for Everyone: Bending Mind and Body. Chichester: John Wiley and 
Sons.


Yoga in Edinburgh: For the Mind or For the Body?

Eribake, Adeola

Rouse, Francesca

Trott, Violet Metcalf

99 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
There is No Me Without You: 
Exploring the Self Through Others in 5Rhythms
ADEOLA ERIBAKE, FRANCESCA ROUSE 
& VIOLET METCALFE TROTT
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Adeola Eribake, Francesca Rouse & Violet Metcalfe Trott. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI:  
http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1548
100The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
There is No Me Without You: 
Exploring the Self Through Others in 5Rhythms
ADEOLA ERIBAKE, FRANCESCA ROUSE 
& VIOLET METCALFE TROTT
Stillness: I opened my eyes, to see for the first time medium and large sized paper lanterns in 
groups of three suspended, swaying gently above my head. The floor was cold and rigid on 
my body as I lay relaxed observing the fragile decorations that dimly lit the space. As slow 
soft music quietly filled the room, my breath was the loudest sound I could hear next to the 
shuffling of other bodies, and the creaking of the floor below their weight. My body was so 
exhausted and yet my mind so relaxed, despite the extent I had pushed myself to. There were 
moments where I had thought to be self-conscious of the sweat breaking through my skin, 
but it felt too soothing, too much of a natural response, I trusted that this was what my body 
needed to be doing. The room grew quieter and quieter as I allowed myself to sink in to the 
floor, sharing this room and stillness with the other people who occupied it.
 (from Fieldnotes, Francesca Rouse) 
5Rhythms is a meditation practice that allows participants to “creatively express emotions and anxieties, …
initiating us back into the wisdom of our bodies” through dance and movement (5Rhythms Website 2016). 
It was created by Gabrielle Roth in New York in the late 1970s, and is heavily influenced by other forms of 
ecstatic dance, indigenous traditions, shamanism, and Eastern philosophy (Juhan 2003). The five rhythms, 
which form the backbone of the practice, are always done in the same order. It starts with Flowing, then 
Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical and finally, Stillness. Each rhythm has been identified by Roth as corresponding to 
different parts of our psyche, life cycle, emotions and the elements (5Rhythms Website 2016). It is through 
setting ourselves into the motion of the rhythms that the body becomes free, the mind becomes still and the 
spirit awakens (Roth and Loudon 1989).  
 The starting question for our fieldwork research and subsequent analysis was the question; why could 
one not just dance alone at home and achieve the same psychological benefits? What is it about this practice 
and the shared experience amongst strangers that facilitates healing? We have taken an auto-ethnographic 
approach which foregrounds our own emotional and physical experiences in the field. As such, we are our 
own primary sources for the material presented in this text. We attended a dance class which had a strong 
therapeutic element and so the idea of standing off to one side and merely observing would not have been 
appropriate even if we had wanted to. Due to the emphasis on physical engagement and the intense personal 
experiences we were having whilst dancing we would describe our approach as “observant participation”, 
rather than participant observation (Wacquant 2003). Through this we found that other dancers became a 
focal point that helped to keep our minds in the present and away from ‘meta-thoughts’. Based upon our re-
search and experience with 5Rhythms meditation this essay puts forward the argument that as social beings, 
because of the need to witness and be witnessed, self-knowledge and self-healing are better achieved through 
the presence of others. Those who come to 5Rhythms use movement and dance to achieve exactly that.
Intimacy and the Need for Others
In the final rhythm, Stillness, you connect with the floor and the room, you wind down your body and breath 
while maintaining a focus on the shared journey you have undertaken with all of those in the space. It may 
seem like people dance on their own in this practice but in fact the session leader1 encourages dance partner-
1. In an interview with one of the authors, she rejected the label ‘teacher’, saying she would describe herself more as “the 
holder of the space”. We’re inclined to agree with that distinction as there is little to no dance instruction. She is more 
of DJ and spends most of the two hours in front of her computer at the front of the room, behind a table with a black 
cloth draped over it.
101 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
ships at different points throughout the session. It can be difficult to manage an awareness of oneself, of part-
ners and of the rest of the room all at once, and there are examples of the success and failure of this venture 
within our discussion. But we argue that for 5Rhythms and the self-healing it promises, it cannot be a solitary 
affair. Engaging with other dancers is a necessity.
 When dancing alone, it is easy to lose concentration and slip into the distraction of self-conscious-
ness and passing thoughts. However, dancing with a partner requires a level of awareness that connects you 
totally with your body. Accepting and submitting to this is an intimate act and in the context of 5Rhythms 
we would distinguish between two types of intimacy: intimacy with the self and intimacy with others. Both 
types involve being comfortable with what is happening in the moment. Intimacy with the self happens when 
one is able to “let your body dance you” (‘Rainbow Rhythms’ teacher in a Peep Show spoof of 5Rhythms, 
2004), to give in to the dance itself without caring about the aesthetics of your movement, or who might be 
watching. “Getting out of your head” as our session leader once put it. Intimacy with others, from our experi-
ence, occurs when dancers are able to tune into their partner and intuitively respond to their movements. This 
is more in line with the common preconception about intimacy, often perceived as involving other people. 
The idea that intimacy is not about capacity within individuals but rather is something that “exists in the on-
going interchange with others” (Weingarten 2004: 3). Intimacy is the product of “individual constructions”, 
which are in turn shaped by “prevailing discourses” (ibid). This social constructionist perspective helps to 
explain the limitations people felt on their ability to connect with or feel intimacy with certain partners. 
 In order to illustrate the importance of intimacy described above we will introduce the reader to an 
auto-ethnographic vignette of a successful dance partnership: 
Lyrical: “I was exhausted. I could feel exactly where my lungs reached their full capacity, 
and my heart beat in my chest, over and over again. I had, for what felt like hours, pum-
melled the floor with my feet and heard the sound reverberate around the room duplicating 
the throb of the beat. I could feel my body push back. The music began to change, this was so 
welcome as every movement and every sense of mine relaxed. I could rest back and allow my 
body to sway and move as it wanted to. If I had been shy before, you would not have known 
it in this moment. I felt my arms stretch across the space and lead me into a sweeping turn, 
my long hair feathering the air. I fell down into a deep lunge, a momentary pause, before my 
motion matched that of the figure dancing beside me. He was one of the most energetic and 
eye-catching dancers in the room. I had wanted to dance as freely as he seemed to, and had 
found myself doubting that he and I would ever share a dance together. And yet I found my-
self moving, turning and breathing with him, and at moments our dance and our bodies were 
indistinguishable from one another. Our movements were as one, I was entirely absorbed 
and focused on his body, my focal point had expanded from myself, into him, his body was 
just as fundamental to this dance as my own. As he placed his feet on the floor, far apart, flat 
and harsh, into a deep bend close to the floor, my arms swept down and up, the momentum 
bringing me onto the tips of my toes. My small body elongated, juxtaposed next the strength 
of his deep measured movements. As I spun in soft quick turns, my eyes finding him, I became 
the axis upon which he turned. His dance and mine dependent on each other, to stay stable, 
finding bursts of new energy and inspiration. 
This was something that I could not have experienced alone, and would not wish to. His 
support amidst my nervousness and vulnerability, came together to create an emotional-
ly transcendent experience with 5Rhythms. As two individuals we came together to create 
something momentary and entirely unique. 
 (from Fieldnotes, Francesca Rouse) 
The social necessarily involves more than the individual and we, as humans, are social beings. Successful 
social interaction in turn requires empathy, which is key to self-awareness (Finlay 2006: 6), something that 
5Rhythms exploits. As Durkheim (1995) and many others have shown us, self-other differentiation is key to a 
sense of self. The ‘lyrical’ dance experience described above is of a dancer’s intimacy with herself, in a given 
moment. An intimacy that was deep enough to encompass another person and create a shared intimacy which 
102The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
then fed back into her sense of self, leaving her feeling elated. Both partners communicated their openness 
to this encounter by mirroring each other and remaining engaged in the moment. “To achieve empathy we 
iteratively engage in different strategies such as bodily mirroring, imaginative self-transposal and reenacting 
the other’s experience” (Finlay 2006: 6). As infants and toddlers do, we in fact learn how to be and remain 
human by mirroring the people around us. 
What Happens When the Thoughts Won’t Go Away
This next section describes what can happen when the dancer is unable to arrest meta-thoughts. Weingar-
ten’s argument, that intimacy arises out of social dynamics and our encounters with others (1991) is useful, 
mainly when considering intimacy with others because it is based on a social constructionist model. As in 
the ‘lyrical’ dance above, we would suggest that intimacy with the self needs to be achieved before one can 
be intimate with others.
Chaos: “I went straight into the disabled loo to change as soon as I arrived, without going 
into the room to check-in first as I had done the previous two weeks. Robert was ahead of me 
as I entered the hall, carrying my boots, coat and large bag. He is probably in his late forties, 
balding. His kind face, salt and pepper beard and round-necked jumper make him look like 
a biology teacher. As we queued to pay and sign in he asked how I was and listened with a 
concerned expression as I said I was anxious about today and had been since last week. He 
told me about how when he’d first started, there were moments in the middle of the dance 
when he would feel lonely even though there were people all around him. He reminds me that 
the pressures and anxieties we feel during 5Rhythms are self-imposed.  
Afterwards I had a similar conversation with another man. I was out in the corridor wait-
ing for Francesca and he came over to say hello. When I mentioned my inability to relax 
during the dance he told me 5Rhythms offered a non-judgmental space. I echoed Roberts’s 
words back to him about the judgement coming from within and he agreed saying yes, per-
haps it’s “self-judgmental”.  
During the dance that night there was a moment when I experienced something of the lone-
liness Robert had spoken about at the beginning of the evening. I became aware that most 
other people were moving like a swarm or a wave. Their movements seemed to be coordi-
nated and the direction of movement was away from me and I was on the outside looking 
in. I made a note to myself to try and join the wave next week. I’m never quite sure what to 
make of these sort of thoughts during the practice. On the one hand I’m trying to do what I 
feel comfortable with and then there’s the urge to do what everyone else seems to be doing.
 (from Fieldnotes, Adeola Eribake) 
One of the best ways to overcome that urge to over-analyse could perhaps be to submit to an encounter with 
another dancer and fully focus on them. Doing this would be healing, in the sense that it allows the dancer to 
move away from self-consciousness to acceptance of themselves through a focus on their partner and their 
movements. In the ethnographic situation described above, the partner is the collective, all the other dancers 
moving together, in a wave. Surely less awkward than engaging one to one with another dancer and yet even 
that was resisted. We described two types of intimacy earlier, that with the self and that with others. This ex-
perience would indicate that intimacy with the self is a precondition for intimacy with others. It is fairly easy 
to spot the people who have been dancing for years because of their ease of movement. There is the shirtless 
older man in the white linen Thai fisherman-style trousers who glides and weaves his way around the room 
like a spring. Or the older woman with the ramrod straight posture and short, curly dark hair. She struts her 
way around the room in her tight-fitting black yoga attire. They both make full use of the entire room during 
the session. The man picks partners from time to time and other people also choose to dance with him but the 
woman in black is usually alone. There is something feline in her demeanor and apparent lone confidence. 
Even when a partner dance is judged to be unsuccessful due to feelings of self-consciousness, the 
5Rhythms experience is a journey. A journey where becoming comfortable with oneself in the room is the 
103 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
first step. Our experience indicates that all dancers go through this journey even though different people 
join it at different points on the two scales of intimacy. That with the self and that with others. The session 
leader noted that most people in fact began their journeys towards intimacy with the self before coming to 
5Rhythms for the first time. She was trying to make us feel better about our self-consciousness by pointing 
out that by joining the class for this project, we had come “from the cold” as it were. She told us that other 
participants often first came to 5Rhythms after exploring other types of movement meditation and/or sha-
manistic practices.
The need for brevity has necessitated a focus on self-consciousness here, but it was by no means the 
only emotion encountered in 5Rhythms. Thinking about hindrances to the two types of intimacy, other neg-
ative emotions we and our informants experienced included but were not limited to suspicion, self-loathing, 
irritation, anger, revenge, jealousy and grief. The ethnographic vignette of a ‘Lyrical’ dance earlier in this 
essay gives an example of a positive emotion, elation, that arose out of a dance partnership. Another positive 
emotion we experienced was that of occasional communion with the collective, with the group as whole
Conclusion
We started with the question of why dance partnerships occur in a practice that on the face of it appears to 
be overwhelmingly about exploring individuality. Our auto-ethnographic approach has led us to the con-
clusion that other dancers become a focal point to keep the mind away from meta-thoughts, and feelings of 
discomfort and other latent pressures we place on ourselves. The meditative aspect of the dance requires the 
other dancers to act as a distraction. Much like chanting in meditative rituals, dancing with another person 
stops your mind from wandering.  The external physical presence holds you there more fully in the present, in 
a way that could not be achieved by dancing alone at home. We would suggest that experienced dancers who 
prefer dancing alone derive this benefit from the collective, rather than individual partners. We have shown 
how self-knowledge and self-healing can be better achieved through the presence of others, and that those 
who belong to 5Rhythms use dance to achieve that. If we understand the type of self-healing being sought 
here to be intimacy with the self, we found that intimacy with others helps achieve this. As social beings, we 
have a need to witness and be witnessed, to mirror others and to empathise with them. Somewhat paradoxi-
cally, others are necessary to our own individuality. 5Rhythms offers a space, both mentally and physically 
that allows people, as much as they are able to, to explore complex emotions through movement.  
 
 
 
 
 
104The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
References
5Rhythms Website (2016) Available at: <http://www.5rhythms.com> [Accessed 20 Mar. 2016]. 
Desjarlais, R. & Jason Throop, C. (2011) ‘Phenomenological Approaches in Anthropology’ Annu. 
Rev. Anthropol. 40: 87-102 
Durkheim, E. M. (1995) The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, New York: Free Press. 
Finlay, L. (2006) ‘Dancing Between Embodied Empathy and Phenomenological Reflection’ Indo-Pacific 
Journal of Phenomenology, 6: 1-11. 
Jackson, M. (2012) Lifeworlds: Essays in Existential Anthropology. Chapter 11: On Autonomy: An 
Ethnographic and Existential Critique. Chicago: University of Chicago Press
Juhan, A. (2003) Open Floor: Dance, Therapy, and Transformation through the 5Rhythms. PhD Thesis. Union 
Institute and University
LaFrance, M. & Broadbent, M. (1976) ‘Group Rapport: Posture Sharing as a Nonverbal Indicator’ Group & 
Organization Studies (pre-1986), 1: 328.
Peep Show, 2004. Video, Channel 4, 12 November. [Viewed 19 May 2016] <https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=20UXFd8Rz-M>
Roth, G. & Loudon, J. (1998) Maps to Ecstasy. California: Nataraj Publications. 
Sklar, D. (2000) ‘Reprise: On Dance Ethnography’ Dance Research Journal, 32 (1): 70. 
Wacquant, L. (2004) Body & Soul. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Weingarten, K. (1991) ‘The Discourses of Intimacy: Adding a Social Constructionist and Feminist View’ 
Family Process, 30(3): 285-305.


There Is No Me without You: Exploring the Self through Others in 5Rhythms

Matthew, Tannith

123 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
The Way I Saw Ethnography
TANNITH MATTHEW
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Tannith Matthew. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI:  http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1507
124The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
The Way I Saw Ethnography
TANNITH MATTHEW
I stood in the corner of a barely-lit room filled with old fashioned toys, trying to slow down my breathing and 
build up the courage to move out of the shadows. I knew that I was going to have to talk to somebody at some 
point or I was never going to find something interesting to write about. 
I was in the Museum of Childhood, located along the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, making my first attempt at 
doing fieldwork for my ethnography course. Sitting in a lecture hall for the past year and a half ethnography 
had seemed such a simple methodology and way of research, and I had naïvely believed that it would be easy 
to do what the big names in anthropology were doing. Since completing my group project for the Ethnogra-
phy course, however, I have learned a lot about what it really means to do ethnographic research, and how 
difficult it can sometimes be. I have also learnt a lot about myself: how I work in a group; how I look at and 
respond to things I see; and how I reflect on past experiences. 
The process of doing fieldwork turned out to be extremely challenging but also very rewarding. My main 
obstacle was my anxiety. The first difficulty I had was simply going to the museum in order to start my field-
work. Although I had been to the museum a lot as a child - having taken many trips to Edinburgh with my 
mother - and knew the layout well, I felt very unsure of going alone in order to observe people. It took me a 
week longer than the other people in my group to begin research because of the time it took me to gain the 
courage to start. Once I started going to the museum I spent most of my time trying to blend into the shadows 
while watching what happened around me and making field notes from what I observed. I never stayed for 
long because I often found the process of observing people both overwhelming and exhausting. My awk-
wardness probably came across to those that I interviewed and most of the time the people I spoke to would 
do a lot of the talking for me because they could tell I was uncomfortable. While guided by my questions, 
then, they were not limited by them, they also became leaders of their own explorations. I believe that my 
initial awkwardness in the role of researcher, as well as my informants’ response to this, allowed me to learn 
some really interesting things from them. My anxiousness also led me to be more aware of my surroundings 
and my position within them, which meant that I was able to reflect on my own role and its effects on what 
was being said and what I saw. 
Working within a group to do this project ended up more of a blessing than I could have anticipated. My 
initial reaction to finding out we would be working in groups was to complain about it alongside all the other 
students stuck doing group projects this semester. Having Emily Dawson and Isla Whateley (my project part-
ners) studying the same space that I was looking at, however, allowed for a much clearer insight into what 
we were seeing and allowed me to look at myself and the data I gathered more closely. Each of us saw things 
slightly differently and reflected on things in a different way from our own individual perspectives. In the 
end this allowed for more interesting concepts to emerge from within our combined research. We ended up 
looking at the way in which people who visited the museum looked back on their own childhood and the idea 
of nostalgia. One of the things we found was that people tended to look back on their childhood positively if 
they related to any of the exhibits in the museum, something that also often made them think of other types of 
childhoods as bad, or not as good as theirs had been. Looking at how people were remembering things from 
the past made me think about how I was remembering the things that I saw, and how I was reporting them 
to the other members of my group. It made me more aware of how I was viewing things and whether I was 
remembering and viewing things truthfully. 
Doing this ethnography course has given me a unique opportunity to immerse myself in what anthropology is 
really about and why we do it. It has allowed me to see how working in a group can sometimes be more bene-
ficial than working alone, and it has given me skills which I will no doubt need in the future. It has also shown 
me how I can use my anxiety as an advantage in certain situations, and it has allowed me the opportunity of 
understanding myself better as an individual. I have come away from this project feeling that I have learned 
125 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
something about humanity, something about myself and something about doing research and I’m left inspired 
and excited about what else I can learn. Anything which fosters a good amount of curiosity and questioning of 
one’s own mind, like this course has for me, can only be a positive thing moving into further years of study.


The Way I Saw Ethnography

Introna, Isabelle

Dunn, Alexandra

109 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
Illustrative Reflections: Self-fashioning Practices at ECA
ISABELLE INTRONA & ALEXANDRA DUNN
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Isabelle Introna & Alexandra Dunn. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DO: http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/
unfamiliar.v6i1.1510unfamiliar.v6i1.1528
FIG 1: First Encounter with The Third Year Illustration Studio (20/02/16). © Alexandra Dunn
110The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
Illustrative Reflections: Self-fashioning Practices at ECA
ISABELLE INTRONA & ALEXANDRA DUNN
AM: “I don’t know what this means…why do I say ‘like’ all the time?”
Interviewer: “Oh everyone does, half the transcripts are ‘like’. It reads like a valley girl movie.”
This remark was the general consensus as we sat down with two Edinburgh College of Art students to 
read Becoming an ‘Artist’? Self-fashioning in a collectively individual space. This ethnography was the 
culmination of several months of observing their group of illustration undergraduates – a collaborative report 
we produced with fellow students Ryan Saunders and Clara Navarro Veiga. One ethnographer (Interviewer) 
sat in her kitchen with two of the students: her flatmate (IP) and close friend (AM). Their initial read-through 
began with giggles and ended in uncomfortable silence – it was obvious they were not entirely on board with 
what we had written. 
IP: “God did I really say that?”
Interviewer: “Do you feel differently about it now?”
IP:”I don’t feel like it’s a fair representation. What AM does isn’t necessarily true for us all.” 
Interviewer: “I agree; does that annoy you? That I could speak to AM and say all you guys do this one thing 
and you would completely disagree.” 
IP: “Yeah, I think that’s how you came to the conclusions you have.” 
Interviewer: “What do you mean?”
IP: “When you were explaining to me the part about our work not being individual I didn’t agree. Now 
reading that, I see where you are coming from but I don’t agree. I don’t think you can understand because 
you aren’t one of us.”
From the beginning, we knew that allowing them to read our analysis would potentially put a strain on our 
friendship but to have the relationship put down in an ‘us vs them’ way was a shock. In hindsight we see this 
as a trapping of anthropology as a discipline. You go into these projects assuming you are going to do some 
good and in your head you build this relationship of equals. However, looking at it from the side of being 
observed it must seem like the anthropologist has all the control – technically (although perhaps not ethically) 
they can print whatever they see fit and portray others in a way they may not agree with or like. During our 
time in the project we always viewed the students as having all the power as we were relying on them for 
information in order to produce an outcome. It was always in the back of our minds that at any moment they 
could say no and the project would be over. 
Our ethnographic work explored the illustrators’ juxtaposed ideals of collaborative social work and the 
pursuit of an individual, original style. We suggested that jumping back and forth between these perceptions 
of themselves and their work informed how they behaved in their studio space. 
Interviewer: “Is it easier to see the theory behind it?”
IP: “Yeah”
Interviewer: “We just thought it was interesting how for a stereotypical art student you think of how unique 
and individual they are and the same with what they do. Then we came in and it was constantly you guys 
checking with each other on colour schemes and “what do you think of this?”. It just went against everything 
we thought and then again with you guys saying it is all individual work.”
IP: “That’s because our work is for other people. We try to use each other as the consumer and I was very 
conscious of the fact you were there and I wasn’t acting normally. Normally I’m less social.” 
AM: “Nah, you talk.”
Interviewer: “When I’ve been not doing the report in the past, you’ve seemed the same.”
IP: “That’s because you are there. If you weren’t there I wouldn’t.”
111 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
Interviewer: “Then was it a relief some of the days that anthropology people weren’t in?“
AM: “Yeah I probably did a bit more work because I just think that someone being there is like having a shiny 
new toy. I want to play.” 
Interviewer: “Ah, so it’s not because I’m studying you – it is my actual presence.” 
AM: “Yeah, because I don’t think we understand really what it is you really do.”
Interviewer: “Fair, I don’t think I do half the time.”
AM:  “So yeah your presence influenced us but not because you were studying us.” 
We noticed another tension of identities during our ethnographic work: between the Designer and the Artist. 
Our report suggested the work of an artist was based around its high cultural capital outside of the domains 
of typical social and economic life. In comparison, the designer is embedded in the wider social sphere and 
thus their work is informed by its potential for social and economic capital.
Interviewer: “Has the report changed the way you think about illustration?”
AM: “Since these conversations I’ve been thinking of that more and more - like the difference between artist 
and designer. so many differences.” 
IP: “I wonder why AS said you don’t want your work to be too commercial?”
AM: “Probably from the tutor.”
Interviewer: “Do you not agree?”
IP: “Well I want to do advertising so I need to be commercial but AS does character design so I guess that 
commercial implies that you are following stereotypes.”
Through our discussions, many unnoticed nuances were becoming evident. Wide variations in each student’s 
perceptions had begun to rise to the surface. We had clearly influenced the illustration students, but it was also 
clear that this wasn’t always in ways we had intended. 
Interviewer: “I ask because of MP [illustration student], what do you think about the fact that she’s not doing 
illustration anymore? Her and RS [ethnographer] were having a chat after the interview and she mentioned 
that because of this [the interview], this made her realise that she wants to go into fine art. That this is what 
she wants over illustration.” 
AM: “I definitely wouldn’t put her as a fine artist - no. What she does isn’t fine art, it isn’t thought through 
or commercial.”
Interviewer: “But I thought it was okay to not be commercial depending on the type of work you do?” 
AM: “She’s just not cut out for it and if this made her realise it then she must have already been swaying on 
the matter.” 
Interviewer: “She was saying to us that she really enjoyed the course until she read this and then she hated it. 
Yeah, we felt we fucked her over so bad.” 
IP: “I guess its best she decided now.”
This marks the first time in which we have really been confronted with a moral dilemma in our personal work 
instead of hearing vignettes from lecturers or in books. The fact that our work influenced MP in such a life 
altering way did not sit well with us even after she had assured us that it was the best course of action and that 
she was happy we had prompted the change. Feeling uncomfortable doing something you love is a truly odd 
feeling. It made us question our work and wonder whether a change of sentence or wording could have had 
a different outcome. This brings into play the ethics of anthropology and whether the good that arises from 
our curiosity and analytic tendency outweighs the bad. Our hope is that through reflecting on situations like 
this we can begin to understand our own feelings and continue to contribute meaningful work through our 
future ethnographies.
112The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
FIG 2: Illustration by “MP”, commissioned for our final ethnographic report. 
(Reproduced with permission from the artist) 


Illustrative Reflections: Self-fashioning Practices at ECA

Giles, Darcy Jean

31 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
An Afternoon with the Augustine United Church
DARCY GILES
ESSAYS
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 UK: Scotland 
License | © Darcy Giles. ISSN 2050-778X (Online). DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.2218/unfamiliar.v6i1.1523
32The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
An Afternoon with the Augustine United Church
DARCY GILES
It was an extremely windy and rainy Thursday afternoon; a typical February day in Edinburgh. We were in 
the midst of storm Gertrude when my research group, consisting of Shannon, Araminta and myself, arrived at 
the Augustine United Church; a relatively large and tall building, situated on a busy George IV bridge. It was 
a relief to get inside the church where it was warm, bright and full of friendly faces. This was only the second 
time I had visited but I already felt vaguely familiar with my surroundings. Upon first entering the church 
there is a bright, unintimidating and rather generic welcome area. There are shelves with leaflets, as well as 
notice boards on the walls, informing visitors about upcoming events and about the church’s work with vari-
ous charities. The main area of the church, where services take place, is separated from the welcome area by 
double doors with large windows. It was through these windows that a man spotted us waiting and came to 
greet us. He was quite young, possibly in his late twenties, dressed in a casual outfit of a jumper and jeans. 
With a smile and an enthusiastic tone, heightened by his strong West Coast American accent, he introduced 
himself as Jason and asked us if we were there for the ‘Coffee, cake and conversation’ meeting. We said that 
we were and he led us into the main room. 
I remember feeling apprehensive about entering the main room of the church, where services took place, 
when I first began my research, a week prior to this experience. I expected to be faced with cold stone pews 
and intimidatingly large stained glass windows; depicting images of Bible stories of which I had no knowl-
edge. Given my non-religious background my preconceptions surrounding what to expect were a result of 
how the church is portrayed in the media; as well as limited first hand experiences of being in a church for 
events such as family weddings and christenings. This time, however, I approached the room with a more 
positive and confident attitude, knowing what to expect. I was instantly struck with the pleasant temperature 
of the room, drastically different to the cold outside. The warmth was coming from the heaters lining both 
the left and right hand side walls, which were also emitting a reddish glow giving the whole room a cosy and 
comfortable feel. There were many features to the room that I recognized as typical of a church, such as the 
large ornate cross on the far wall and organs in the left-hand corner. However, there were no pews like I had 
previously assumed there would be. Instead, there were rows of individual chairs, with cushioned seats and 
backs, like what would be found in a café or some other type of social space. 
On this particular day, around half of the chairs in the church had been moved to accommodate for the tables 
that had been set up for the gathering. There were four tables set up towards the back of the room, near the 
entrance. Three of these tables were already full of people chatting. There was a pretty even mix of males 
and females but I still felt self-consciously out of place, as the majority of people were on the older side; 
made evident by the sea of white and grey hair. Everybody seemed to be settled in, with their coats, scarves 
and hats hung on the back of their chairs. After standing awkwardly for a few moments, we proceeded to sit 
at the only empty table, not yet confident enough to start mingling on our own. Jason politely asked us if we 
wanted something to drink and a short while later he brought back two cups of tea and a coffee to our table, 
along with a jug of milk, a pot of sugar and a plate of cakes. 
Jason sat with us and, after he told us he was originally from California, the conversation naturally moved 
towards the weather. We were also joined by an older man named John, who seemed very happy and eager 
to see new faces at the church. As we were talking the minister of the church, Freida, noticed us and came 
over to welcome us. We had met her once before, but only spoke for a few minutes, so it was not surprising 
that she had forgotten our names. She sat down as we reintroduced ourselves and continued our chat about 
the weather. People continued to drink and eat whilst the exchange went on. Freida asked if anyone had seen 
the video of the panda playing in the snow after the East Coast blizzard, which brought on a queue of excited 
‘yes, it was so cute’ and noises of our endearment. Our cooing was interrupted by an elderly woman who 
came over to speak to Freida. She was wearing her puffy winter coat and a woolly hat; a sign that she was 
on her way to leave. However, once a discussion was brought up about a documentary she had watched last 
33 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 6 (1)
night she ended up staying for another half hour. Freida introduced this woman as Anne, who then told us at 
length about this documentary about a man called Nicholas Winton, who is known for organizing the rescue 
of over 600 children during the Holocaust.
This shift in topic got John pondering on his life before World War II. He told us how he remembers seeing a 
car for the first time, as they were not common where he lived in rural England. He also told us about how his 
mother used to take him shopping with her to Sainsbury’s, which was extremely different all those decades 
ago. He explained how nothing was individually packaged as it is today; individual portions of butter were 
taken off a large stick of it, and biscuits were taken out of a large tin and put into a paper bag. Everything 
had to be weighed before you could pay, making the whole grocery shopping process take much longer than 
it does today. John’s reminiscing also got another woman, Susan, talking about what life was like during her 
childhood. In her case it was in reference to this particular church we were in, which she had been attending 
since she was five years old, for over eighty years. She told us about how the church was originally much 
bigger; built for a congregation of one thousand people, whereas now it can only fit a few hundred. She also 
explained how there was a high pulpit up on the balcony, so that the minister could preach to the people. The 
church still appeared to be a huge part of Susan’s life, as Freida told us that she helps make all the food for 
church suppers and lunches, as well as the cakes for charity stalls and for more casual social gatherings such 
as the one that was happening that day. I listened with interest to the various anecdotes the afternoon provid-
ed, glad that none of them seemed to center heavily on religion, which I’m sure would have left me feeling 
out of my depth. This lack of religious content was something which my group and I found intriguing and it 
lead us to focus our ethnography around how this particular church worked to make themselves relevant to 
people of all ages, genders and backgrounds. 


An Afternoon with the Augustine United Church

Caspersen, Hakon

05 The Unfamiliar, Vol. 5 (1&2)
A Letter from the Editor
HAKON CASPERSEN 
Volume 5, Issues 1-2
Humans and the Environment / Walking Threads 
The environment, or ‘nature’, in anthropology today, is no longer seen as something detached and 
separate from human life. Instead, what is emphasised is its relational nature, and the inseparability 
of life with the surrounding environments in which life is lived. It is for this reason that the chosen 
wording of this volume’s themed title, namely ‘the environment’, might, in retrospect, be criticised 
for being ‘old fashioned’. While we all live in and perceive different environments, the title of this 
issue emphasises the existence of a wider commonality and brings forth the realisation that we all 
also share and live in the same world. 
 The individual contributions to this double-issue of The Unfamiliar all explore the different 
and intricate relationships that exist between people and environments. The environment is here 
understood in its broadest sense, to also include social, economic, cultural, and political aspects, 
all co-constitutive elements influencing how one comes to perceive and relate to the surrounding 
world. 
 In continuation with the theme of Humans and the Environment, the final part of this 
volume is dedicated to a special section on the ongoing collaborative initiative Walking Threads. 
While interdisciplinary collaborations and workshops abound, the reflections and results of these 
interactions are often intangible and site-specific, they tend to remain in the sphere of discussion 
and experience. The different reflections, essays and creative interventions represented by these 
pieces offer a glimpse into an ongoing conversation that originated in the context of one such 
collaboration, between performance and anthropology, and after an unplanned communal walk with 
a thread in Seaton Park, Aberdeen. 
 Taking the form of different reflections on and responses to this walk, together with an 
exploration of some of the practical and theoretical implications, the different texts explore, and 
illustrate, how the walkers tentatively have come to understand this experience. As a result, the 
contributions exemplify the value of experimentation and play, while also offering us reflections on 
the walk’s potential methodological implications and relevance for anthropological research – and 
how we come to know and connect with our surroundings in the world. 
 We have learned a lot from our different contributors when putting together this issue, and 
we hope you will find this issue of The Unfamiliar an equally interesting and enjoyable read. 
Hakon 


A Letter from the Editor

From the introduction:This article represents our first attempt in exploring life stories by bringing the subtle details of one such story into dialogue with a broader scholarly concept, namely that of ‘system viability’ (Mistry et al. 2010; Berardi et al. 2013). The concept provides a generalised framework through which one can evaluate a system’s ability to survive, stay healthy, and prosper

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