The Taming of the Shrew: 1st Semester European Ethnology/Folklore Studies

"Mum, you can study people's everyday lives?!"

"But you're already doing that all the time anyway."

"Yes, but then I'd be allowed to do it officially."

"You mean you need it in writing so you're permitted to poke your nose into other people's business?"

It was the end of March. The previous summer I had completed my Master's degree as a designer, and yet I was mega dissatisfied with my level of knowledge. I quickly realised that I lacked the tools to implement my projects satisfactorily. I knew how to create aesthetic values and moods, polarise and entertain a lot of people. But I was also interested in how reality and truth worked, and above all, how I could experience, document and understand them. – What should one study for that? Or could you even study that?   

I decided to study Philosophy and Religion in Würzburg. But what as a minor subject? Eventually I came across European Ethnology/Folklore Studies. The word Folklore Studies initially put me off: it sounded like something that existed during the Nazi or East German era. It sounded dusty. But that impression was quickly overtaken by my enthusiasm. I studied the information on the university website in detail and threw my arms up in the air. It sounded fantastic. The minor subject quickly became a second major.

The introductory event didn't disappoint me either. Because when the chair and the Student Subject Initiative introduced themselves, I looked into cheerful faces with a clear gaze and alert eyes. Each individual talked about their field of study and the seminars that were offered. There was no attitude. No obligation. It was genuine curiosity and the joy of wonder. I have no idea, but I get heart palpitations at the sight of motivated people. And the topics… good grief… you can really engage with everything in European Ethnology/Folklore Studies. The perspective is what matters. It's about the relationships between people, things and also other living beings in relation to time and space. In European Ethnology, the stamps we press on ourselves and others are abolished. Phenomena are not observed from the outside, but experienced through fieldwork and contact with the actors themselves and illuminated in their microcosm. The chair has already explained that wonderfully though. For more information:   

But: stay cool – don't explode with joy straight away. Wait and see, I thought. Maybe it was just polished words from university marketing. But it was no different for me in the seminars either. Varied topics, competent people. And what I always find very positive: this pause between a question and the answer. A pause that gives me as a student a feeling of appreciation. The lecturers think about my questions and make an effort to give me an answer that helps me. I can ask follow-up questions without feeling like I'm getting on someone's nerves with my ignorance. My fellow students are equally brilliant. Many are either active at university, politically or socially. They are doers. People who are interested in other people… people who want to make a difference.

In fact, however, the subject culture turned out to be not such easy going for me as an artist:

Gendering: I really resisted it. Even though I understand the necessity in these formulations… This underscore in the middle of the word looks like I accidentally copied a filename into my text… And speaking is even worse. With actors and participants, I have more the feeling of reciting a Dadaist poem than conveying serious content. I'm still working on that.

Politeness: As a researcher in a field, you are dependent on the openness and goodwill of the actors. Only then do the doors to the everyday lives of strangers open. That requires tact… My usual method from art, provocatively barging in, telling them off verbally, and then waiting to see what happens… that doesn't work here at all. The same applies to academic writing in European Ethnology/Folklore Studies. It's full of sensitivity and circumspection. That's why the publications read so well. You don't even notice how you're being pumped full of specialist knowledge because you feel like you're right there with them.

Research methods: As a student of European Ethnology, I'm thrown straight into the field. Participant observation, interviews and internet ethnography. All very practice-oriented and shaped by personal experiences. My belief in objectivity and an overarching understanding evaporated very quickly. Even my own research questions already suggest certain tendencies to the research field. Personal prior knowledge guides my gaze and makes me judge situations… and that's okay. I just have to recognise it myself and include it in my observation. A research diary helps with that. It's so refreshing not to have to play the all-knowing narrator in presentations, but to be able to represent myself as part of the system and still do science. Of course, that's always a matter of contextualisation, and I have to be careful not to forget my actual research subject in all the self-reflection. But after every presentation I gave last semester, I felt a bit more mature. I didn't just illuminate a phenomenon, I also learned something about myself. Perhaps that's why the lecturers and students of European Ethnology radiate such calm and composure. Quite provocatively, I would compare cultural relativism with Buddhist philosophy: nothing is real. Humans have made everything up and we only achieve enlightenment when we let go of everything. The idea that culture, knowledge, emotions and belief are constructed has shaken me to my core. The seminar on identities and lifestyles finished me off: that's when it first became clear to me how deeply I myself am stuck in my constructed perception. From my own expectations of certain role models to behavioural patterns that I perceive as natural because… well, it's always been that way. I regularly felt really stupid in this semester. But the advantage of knowing you live in the matrix: you can enjoy things so much more. Constructed values are all the more exciting when I don't feel obligated to them. Status symbols and life plans have less impact, but remain an interesting research subject. If some guy gets on my nerves, I just view him as a phenomenon – as an example of hegemonic masculinity. And suddenly even idiots are fascinating. Through the mix of experience, the right literature and the right contacts, I feel like I'm creating real added value. I'm developing understanding and a profound wealth of experience. 

Narrowing down the research field: I hate it. I want everything and all at once. I don't want to limit myself! Why should I invest in a project if I weren't convinced I could change the world with it? Accordingly, my working method for the first presentations was exhausting and confusing. Eventually, a lecturer explained that in academic work it's not about explaining the world within an essay… but about penetrating one tiny circumstance so meticulously as to contribute a part to the greater whole. – I was horrified by this compelling logic and angry at myself again. It sounded so humble and intense at the same time. As if each of the many essays were a little lamp that, in their multitude, gradually brings light into the darkness together.

In short: the first semester is over and I feel like I've gone through a second puberty… The concept of truth and reality has somehow dissolved. – Instead, I've found something much more valuable: possibilities. Possibilities to grasp and experience other people's constructs. In European Ethnology/Folklore Studies you can find out how society works… and as long as there are people, people will do funny things… and someone will stand next to them and wonder: "Why is he doing that?"

Luise Stark