Abstract
This article reviews the topic of indigenous knowledge, addressing the ethical and knowledge gaps in Eurocentric education, research, and scholarship based on examples from a participatory media venture in collaboration with people of the Wancho community of North-East India. The objective of the project is to represent the cultural insights that are integral to the local traditions through contemporary media practices and to engage a group of people from various disciplines, outlooks, and ways of life in the decolonization of indigenous representation and media practice.
Keywords
Introduction
The North-East region of India is home to diverse populations who identify as distinctive ethnic groups, follow their own cultures, customs, and ways of life and speak their own mother tongue languages. I first visited Nagaland in 2008: This led to my project to adapt a folktale that was shared by several related tribal groups in the state, into a short animated film. Man Tiger Spirit became the first of a series of five short films called The Tales of the Tribes (2017) that included four stories from the North East, as well as one folktale from Central India. The program, which was an outcome of practice-led research, was dubbed into five vernacular languages of the communities represented, and when it was screened on a tour to the region, local audiences were evidently delighted to see their own stories in animated form. At these screening events, which took place at educational and cultural institutions, the series of films stimulated other young people to envisage how their cultural stories might also be adapted for new presentations in animated films that would appeal to the younger generations who are losing touch with their traditional narratives.
The rugged hilly landscape at the fringe of India is animated by myths, songs, folktales, and remembered histories. The elder people residing in villages that are close to the international border with Myanmar still remember stories that speak of local knowledge: of the geography, the rivers, stones, trees, forests, animals, and plants: the journey of my research brought me here to listen. I was drawn to the organic quality of structure and form, and to local wisdom that could not be reduced to an all-encompassing social sphere. As a film-maker, the mysterious creation stories began to parade as animated sequences in my imagination. The logistics of following through with the idea of adapting any more local legends for the film were insurmountable. Furthermore, the question of authenticity arises in any initiative to adapt traditional oral narratives for animated film, as the folklore is the collective cultural heritage of the community. Indigenous cultures worldwide have been consistently misrepresented as primitive, archaic, outdated, and stagnant (Säid, 1978, p. 208). A sensitive approach that prioritizes accurate representation of detail is vital: in fact, diligent research of the traditions is essential to avoid subverting the original meaning of the text and appropriating the story for one’s own ends. The Stories of Our Ancestors is a research project that was awarded funding by the North-Eastern Council to promote the North-East region, and association with the Department of Anthropology at North-Eastern Hill University (in Shillong, Meghalaya) for the project promotes the study of the ethical dimensions of the work.
The project was to be comprised of two chapters: the first would be to record, document, and publish a collection of folktales of the Wancho community of Arunachal Pradesh, and of the Tangkhul community of Manipur. The next objective would be to adapt a single story from each to the format of a short film. In both studies, the media adaptation is intended to take place with inputs from members of the community. The measures to integrate and modernize these distant tracts have dislodged the traditional methods of knowledge transmission. Children must attend school and follow the national curriculum for education; thereafter young people are drawn to migrate from villages to urban centers for employment. At the same time, the ubiquitous exposure to commercial entertainment that is widely available on mobile communication devices, even in remote areas, diverts the interest of young viewers away from the traditional storytelling activities by which ancestral knowledge was transmitted. The storytelling traditions of the Wancho people are evidently vulnerable and the stories are in danger of being forgotten. My previous research has shown that animation is a tool that can be used to develop interest from younger people toward traditional culture (Douglas, 2016). Would it be possible for animators to collaborate with young artists from tribal communities and produce media content that reflects the local cultural traditions?
The Wancho
The Wancho people are a community of 56,000 (census 2011) whose presence in a peripheral and inaccessible corner of India at the juncture of Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Nagaland, and Myanmar has broadly contributed to preserve and sustain the cultural practices and way of life. However, the two teachers that I was in contact with at a government school in a village in Longding District voiced concern about the decline of the traditional knowledge of the Wancho community, as the younger generation overall lack awareness about the stories of their ancestors. This was affirmed by Wangchan Losu 1 : “These days the children go to school–boarding school especially–and they get admission until they grow up and by that time, children have no time to learn the stories, no time to hear the stories. So these days there is a huge gap between the younger generation and the aged people” (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021).
Like other traditional societies that depend on knowledge of the environment to sustain them and maintain their cultural identity (Johnson, 1992), the Wancho way of life is inseparable from a vast repository of ecological knowledge accumulated through the close observation of typically fragile ecosystems. Hence, the village communities retain a practical understanding of water and soil management and conservation; classification of local flora and fauna, agricultural practices, conflict resolution, health and nutrition, traditional medicine, the use of herbal remedies, and art and craft technologies. The Wancho way of life is established in relations that are founded on practices of reciprocity and by obligations toward community members and other life-forms. In other areas of India, the erosion of intergenerational transmission of knowledge is the loss of social cohesion and disorientation of indigenous young people (UNESCO, n.d.). Chaudhuri and Mibang (2004, p. 163) further indicated the Hindu hegemony that is propagated by the media, specifically by Hindi films and the Hindi language, and the impact it has on the tribal cultures of Arunachal Pradesh, in addition to the social upheaval, political turmoil, and economic depression that is linked to cultural disintegration. The delivery of local cultural stories in a contemporary format that is engaging for young people would contribute toward sustaining the Wancho folklore and history.
The Role of Storytelling and Art
It is important to recognize the significant role of storytelling in upholding the Wancho culture and society. The oral transmission of knowledge usually took place in the morung, and by the fireside in the traditional Wancho kitchen: each Wancho village has a number of male dormitories that previously functioned as formal institutions of education. It was by listening to the stories that are recounted by their elders—the parents and grandparents—that Wancho children acquired a sense of belonging, became socially integrated, and learnt responsibility. Storytelling was a co-creative activity, and each storyteller focused on particular details recollected from personal memory as they adapted the stories for their listeners.
Fact and fiction intertwine in the Wancho oral tradition in the form of myths, folktales, and remembered histories of migration, conflict, and resolution to complete an all-inclusive vision of village life. These oral narratives represent the indigenous belief system that predates the widespread adoption of Christianity by the Wancho community. According to the animist perspective, consciousness is present in all natural and supernatural phenomena: in animals, ancestral spirits, and in geographical features such as stones, rivers, and mountains. Within this ecosystem, the Wancho sense of kinship extends to embrace the entire natural environment, and the stories reinscribe the protective role toward biodiversity that is assigned to human intervention. Respect for elders, “Apu-Api” is foundational to the Wancho tradition: At the same time, the young generation is progressively drawn to mainstream media and to the dominant political narratives of district, state, and nation that inevitably introduce new values and ambitions. This suggests that the stories are less likely to be remembered and transmitted beyond the present generation of village elders.
Women and men function in different spheres of the community. For instance, the artistic practices of wooden sculpture, basketry, and cane work are produced exclusively by men, and woven textiles and jewelry are made by womenfolk. Previously, the visual art attested to the paramount status of a warrior: his courage to defend the village and vanquish the enemy, and the return home bearing the enemy’s head in the warrior’s basket as the proof of victory. These lively accounts of ancestral heroism are recollected by male storytellers with pride, and the head is consistently depicted as a prominent feature of the sculptures. The change of religion and faith and the declining role of the morung in the village adversely affected the transference of the knowledge of traditional art to the young generation in the Naga communities (Von Fürer Haimendorf, 1982, p. 319). As the tradition was discontinued, so was the entitlement to special tattoos and the artistic accomplishments that were associated with headhunting. However, the traditional ornaments, jewelry, and attire still serve to convey the social position of the wearer (Oppitz et al., 2008, p. 343). This could easily be overlooked by metropolitan-based research or media production, and it can be argued that the representation of Wancho identity cannot be accomplished by the conventional model of film-making without the participation and input from local artists.
Indigenous Media and Animation
Indigenous media, termed “Fourth Cinema” by Maori film-maker, Barclay (1990) has emerged as a category of politically engaged film-making which produces images that are controlled by indigenous peoples and which represent their concerns and customs (Martens, 2012; Murray, 2008). In India, where the genre is hitherto unrecognized, targeting indigenous media at intercultural viewing would support communication with non-indigenous audiences to help understanding, compromise, and reconciliation (Ginsburg, 1995).
The broad history of animation discloses the experimental applications of the medium that were adopted from the 1920s by artists to add movement to their paintings and graphic designs (Starr, 1987). In contrast to the development of commercial animation, Soviet policy that supported cinema as an art form in countries that were behind the “Iron Curtain” produced interpretations of narrative and form that have brought acclaim for artistic originality. From 1947, animation studios were set up for each country and also for distinct ethnic groups. These guaranteed animators full-time employment producing theatrical cartoons, public service, and educational animation, children’s films drawn from folk culture, and titles and special effects for features (Moritz, 1997). Dimensions of Dialogue (1982) by a Czech animator, Jan Švankmajer, is one example of how mixed media provided a metaphorical language to critique the oppressive totalitarian regime.
Animation is a storytelling medium that requires teamwork to produce a film. In the case of The Stories of Our Ancestors, the target audience is young people from the local community, so it is vital to establish contact with Wancho people, both the elder storytellers and the younger viewers, and to integrate local inputs into the adaptation. The typical procedure for film production is to interpret the story from text to script; storyboard and dynamic sequences edited and synced to an audio track. The dialogue between media professionals and anthropological scholarship assists us in decoding the context, and it provides a framework to interpret the profoundness of meaning that is embedded within the Wancho narrative tradition.
The intensification of digital technology in animation production from the mid-1990s, which turned it into a profitable industry for broadcast and online media content, influenced the aesthetic presentation, the production methods, and the expectations of viewers. The commercial industry standards for animation are not a feasible benchmark for creating local media content because its methods are at definite odds with indigenous artistic practices. A more appropriate method for cultural animation would conceivably take place in the workshop setting, and by inviting local storytellers and artists to the team. This type of creative action is comparable to the social function of traditional artistic practice and knowledge sharing, especially if the team can read anthropological scholarship, the study of folklore, and philosophy to focus the knowledge that is contained within the stories. Indigenous knowledge, rooted in the holistic experiences of relationships between phenomena, is considered inferior to Western science, by which complex phenomena are studied by breaking down data from the standpoint that the observer must be deliberately separate from the subject of study. The project to revitalize Wancho storytelling and art at NEHU illustrates the role of the institution for transmitting knowledge that has been marginalized. The university setting legitimizes the knowledge and brings prestige to the work to help transcend the barriers that have prevented scientists from acknowledging the value of indigenous knowledge. It is feasible that our exploration of a cross-disciplinary approach that assembles storytelling, anthropology, and visual media will impact future decisions by institutions of higher education on what sort of knowledge should be taught, and what sort of research should receive public funding.
For indigenous peoples, art, culture, and knowledge are common property which cannot be owned, commercialized, and monopolized by individuals (Grenier, 1998, p. 34). The academic structure provides the context to reshape our understandings about authorship and reflect on the compromises that are brought about by developing a commercial product for popular viewing. The participation by student and professional animators in the workshops extends our contact and connection to marginalized cultures and art forms and with technical guidance, the story can be brought to life in an entertaining and engaging way.
Ethnographic Research, Documentation, and Translation
The first phase of field research for The Stories of Our Ancestors was to document a range of stories from the elder storytellers of the Wancho community, using audio and video recording formats. A collection of 32 myths, folktales, and oral recollections was recorded in November 2019, as they were related without prior preparation by elder residents of several upper Wancho villages of Longding District: Kamhua Noknu, Nyinu, Nisa, Longkai, Kaimoi, and Jagan. The audio-visual recordings were transcribed and translated from Wancho into English by Jatwang Wangsa, Head Teacher of Kamhua Noknu Government Middle School. The son of one of the storytellers, late Ngamchai Wangsa, Jatwang was familiar to the elders of the village and he was able to verify particular details and clarify ambiguities in the narratives with them. From this archive, one narrative would be selected to develop into a short animated film. The primary criteria for the selection of the story were for it to provide insight on some chief aspects of Wancho culture and it had to be suitable for adaptation to the medium of animation.
The Wancho folklore is nested in the traditions and customs of the community and anthropological literature and ethnographic methods of study are significant for guiding the development of meaningful representations that express the perspectives, practices, and organization of the society. To enter the village, meet the folk, observe, and participate in cultural activities is to entertain the context of the stories. Gradually, we can begin to see the terms of the cultural symbols and values unfold as we absorb the knowledge, customs, and cultural meanings that emerge from their understanding of the world around them.
Animation has properties for communicating the poetic, dynamic, and supernatural quality of folklore for as animation director Barry Purves wrote, “Surely the point of animation is to say things or to point out ideas that can’t be expressed in our everyday lives” (Purves, 2010, p. 64).
Three stories were shortlisted from the collection of recorded myths and folktales. The story of Man, Tiger and Cicada dramatizes the concept of special intimacy between mankind and the tiger that is upheld by Wancho tradition: in essence, kinship that is ascribed to the Wangham (the village chief) and the tiger, which is based on the mutual quality of extraordinary power. The story further speaks about the knowledge of fire: a key point for human civilization, the possession of which differentiates between men and animals with the provision of light, cooking, protection, and warmth (Goudsblom, 1992). Equally significant is the social value of fire, the family hearth being the center of family life and storytelling in the community. The sublime level of meaning is in the metaphysical representation of fire in traditional cultures worldwide as the archetype of all forms of energy and the symbol of activity and knowledge (Radcliffe-Brown, 1922, pp. 309–342). In the Wancho tale, Ajusa is the human ancestor: a hero who succeeds in outwitting and defeating the tiger to obtain knowledge about fire.
Another story, The Boy Who Turned into a Fish, is a legend about an orphan who pursues his mother to the world of the dead, but must return, and in the end, he transforms into a catfish. Finally, The Wancho Story of the Gourd is a creation myth: An imaginative rendering of the origin of humankind that speaks of kinship between an ancestral brother and his sibling who becomes Jowan—the divine being or God, according to the Wancho tradition. The nonlinear narrative unraveling digresses into what is quite another story: that of the protagonist Topa, and his singular role in the discovery of the first Wancho chief who emerges from a gourd in the story. It is a meandering plot that compresses the evolution of hunting, agriculture, and social order; in this landscape, human existence is imagined, experienced, and validated by relationships with divine beings, animals, and plants. The theme of sibling rivalry and deception, which resurfaces with regularity in the Wancho folklore, features in the story, and the elder brother is deprived of his rightful status which is awarded to the younger brother, and to the smaller of two gourds. The myth focuses around the life-giving powers of the earth. The spit that is given to Topa on a leaf by a celestial hunting party and the gourd that springs from the earth as the womb that gives birth to the first Wancho chief are all part of the intricate interweaving of human life, nature, and energy. The cultivation cycle is also mirrored in religious rituals which once included human sacrifice–and the return to the village with the enemy’s head which was believed to enhance the fertility of the soil.
On the topic of hunter-gatherer societies in general, Campbell (1988) suggested that the psychological tension of the necessity to kill, versus the concept of the divinity of the animal turned the hunt (and the sacrifice of a domestic animal) into a ritual act of slaughter. In The Story of the Gourd the spoils of the hunt are divided equally and appropriately between the members of the hunting party, and a demand for a share by Topa as payment for crossing his land is legitimate. In essence, the story relates the origins of several Wancho customs: “the story has the beginnings of meat distribution; the hunting cry of the Wanchos, the olden days of our ancestors, the Wancho chief, the jiknu and jiksa beads…how things started, the story teaches that” (Chinglai, 2 Wancho Animation Workshop 2021). All the traditions, including the systems of distribution and reception that are contained in the story, are attributed to divine intervention: They have been transmitted by superior ancestors. According to Wangchan Losu, “it is a unique kind of story which I have not heard from any other place anywhere, even in the books; it is a unique kind, so this story should be carried on in the future, so I simply love this story” (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021). The medium of animation is the perfect format to interpret the surrealism of the imagery: For instance, the magical gourd plant that bares the gourds that speak to and imitate Topa. Animation can be effective for representing aspects of culture that would be difficult to depict in ethnographic film, and because it is evocative, it can highlight subjective feelings.
The next phase of field research took place on a second visit to Longding District, from October–December 2020. The objective to make headway with the translation and to subtitle the audio-visual recordings required extended commitment from a bilingual Wancho-English speaker. I intended to interact with some younger people in the community with the view to identifying participants for the workshop at North-Eastern Hill University, in Shillong. The workshop activities that were organized for a few young people in Kamhua Noknu village at the Government Middle School led to our drafting a film script in English and Wancho; a storyboard and the assembly of an animatic that slots the storyboard sequence onto a video editing timeline in sync to a scratch audio track to decide the length of shots and sequences. The main purpose was to provide a practical idea of how the finished film will turn out, and how each shot will fit into the overall picture.
The Wancho Animation Workshop was held from March 16–30, 2021, in Shillong at the Department of Anthropology, North-Eastern Hill University. The two-week time period that was allotted for it was considered to be the maximum time that volunteers could be expected to take off from their regular activities to attend. Twenty participants were invited: Eight were Wanchos, of which seven had volunteered from Kamhua Noknu, and one was from Nyinu village. The rest of the participants were students or graduates of animation and communication design 3 ; some young media and design professionals and two teaching faculty from Shrishti Manipal Institute of Art, Design and Technology in Bengaluru. Shrishti promotes a multidisciplinary approach to design, and the theme of the workshop was of interest: had it not been for the unprecedented restrictions on travel that were imposed because of the COVID-19 pandemic, students from Shrishti would have joined the workshop. Instead, a week-long program of online sessions organized by the institute prior to the workshop introduced the design students to innovative visual approaches for illustrations based on the Wancho folklore.
Most of the participants of the workshop were of the 20–30 age group, and of the team, five were female. Young people would be able to adjust to the new environment and they would be receptive to acquiring digital skills; the gender composition of the group suggests that boys are typically more inclined to be encouraged by parents to travel for such activities.
The workshop introduced the research process to most of the students for the first time; it was also intended to initiate the next phase of the project to adapt a Wancho folktale for the medium of film. The eclectic team was, therefore, an asset. The Wancho participants would advise the representation of cultural details during the workshop; they would assist any translation work from Wancho to English and they would participate at all stages of the preproduction and production during the workshop. This led to lengthy discussions, as the young Wancho participants were not familiar with all of the subtleties of the Wancho language; translation issues can surface at all levels of a research process, not only for the outside researcher but even for those who have fluency in the local language. Ideas and images are difficult to translate correctly, and English may not be able to capture the subtleties expressed in the Wancho language. Hence, some of the insights about indigenous plants, animals, and other elements may be lost through translation.
The media professionals and semiprofessionals were to guide the technical process; they would teach the Wancho students and they would learn about cultural research. The anthropologists and other academic professionals at North-Eastern Hill University that had either volunteered or had been requested to attend the workshop on specific days, would be advisers in their particular fields of research, and at the same time, they would gain some exposure to the processes of media adaptation and to the Wancho cultural traditions. For instance, Associate Professor of Linguistics at La Trobe University (Melbourne, Australia), Stephen Morey’s introduction to his lifelong work in the online presentation titled The Linguistic Diversity of the India–Myanmar Border Region–And Documenting It for Future Generations, outlined the process of recording ritualistic songs from several communities in Arunachal Pradesh and across the border in Myanmar. He elaborated on the requirement for a supplementary text that provides the title, transcription, translation, and other contextual information. The recorded material would then require archiving in secure long-term repositories. Interestingly, the example used to illustrate the procedure was a recording of Wancho singer and songwriter, the late Soipho Pansa, coincidentally the father of one of our participants, Ms Choimai Pansa. The question of how to return the recordings to the community was discussed, the consensus being that online dissemination through platforms such as YouTube and Facebook enables it to be accessed wherever there is internet availability.
During the British colonial period, it was broadly assumed that tribal societies and cultures would inevitably disappear as they became exposed to modernization. Indigenous societies were described by anthropologists and administrators at the time as primitive, representing an earlier stage of evolution, in comparison to Western civilization which was assumed to be superior and advanced (Kidd, 1896, p. 341; Tylor, 1871). It was, therefore, considered necessary to document and preserve these relics through photography. This ethnocentric view of traditional culture suspended in time did not take into account the modifications that take place in any society (Stocking, 1991, p. 316). Lucy Zehol’s 4 presentation for the workshop was a brief introduction to the history of visual research in North-East India that showed examples of the type of photographs that were produced. The images from the colonial past spoke more about the photographer, his language, cultural institutions, and political ambiance than about the subject. Even the close-up images that had been taken by Christoph von Fürer Haimendorf and Verrier Elwin that seemed to convey a sense of relationship with the photographers were devoid of any information about the performance before the camera or how consent was elicited. Both were renowned for their extensive documentation work in North-East India during the late colonial period. Contemporary ethnography casts doubt on the concept of objective study that is unimpaired by any form of bias: How would ethnographers accurately represent the “Other,” given their own influence on the gathering, recording, and representation of data? (Reuben & Pattillo-McCoy, 2000). It would be appropriate to examine the impact of one’s presence and to review the quality of the encounter.
The applied anthropology that has emerged since the mid-1980s incorporates multiple voices that represent multiple “realities” through the active involvement of research participants and the cross-cultural communication of the ethnographic encounter. The commitment to collaborative research highlights and focuses on the role of local consultants in the interpretation process, for which the researcher is expected to surrender interpretive authority to bring about multidimensional understandings (Lassiter, 2008). The shift of the role of the researcher from that of an expert to one of facilitator is a direction for collaborating with the Wancho people to represent their cultural heritage.
Participatory Media Practice
The workshop model is a method for collaborative research practice that focuses on the primacy of experience over theory (Chabrán, 1990), which is in keeping with traditional ways of learning. In the case of our research, participatory film-making emerges as an appropriate method of practice for developing media content. Participation by the community in every stage of the research supports a more comprehensive outcome and also encourages confidence from partners to conduct their own research (Webb, 2009). The Wancho participants would benefit from exposure, skills, and the confidence gained by working with professional and semiprofessional media practitioners. However, the question about the extent of the influence of the outsider on the form of the film becomes an issue which demands detailed attention in each production so that a balance is negotiated between noninterference and imparting the methods of good film-making practice. Webb’s description of parallel learning between students and instructors demonstrates that this type of interaction contributes to the level of engagement of students.
The workshop was designed to empower local artists with an introduction to research, media production, and the animation film-making process. It was, therefore, logical to engage the participants in the practical exercise of creating animated sequences with reference to the script and storyboard, to determine the appropriate techniques to use. A study about using animation as an educational tool locates the visual impact of the animation as secondary to the content (Lowe, 2001). This implies that in developing films based on indigenous cultures, the focus should be on the quality of the content over what has been described by Darley (2000, p. 103) as the business of “astonishing the senses” through which technique and image prevail over content and meaning. By these criteria, the Animation Workshop model provides the best environment for developing indigenous content for films and also reflects the social function of storytelling as a community activity, especially if it can include intergenerational dialogue to help deconstruct obscure meanings. By focusing on the process in the Animation Workshop, two stories were produced—that of the artifact, and that of the making of the artifact.
The workshops organized by West Highland Animation in Scotland to adapt Gaelic folklore for animation and Quick Draw Animation for the Aboriginal Youth Animation Project (AYAP) in Canada, are two examples of how this method was applied to engage young people through the medium of animation. It was also the method that had been tested in India for the development of The Tales of the Tribes (2017) series. Having studied animation at West Surry College of Art and Design in 1993, the decision was made that I would introduce the participants to storytelling through audio-visual media using the same teaching methods—that of starting with preproduction. In the case of the Wancho project, a storyboard and animatic were the outcome of workshop sessions that were organized in Kamhua Noknu village; this had given some prior experience for the Wancho participants. It is at the stage of preproduction that decisions are made about the story. Animation requires the creation of 24 separate images for each second of animation, which illustrates how preproduction planning is critical to the film-making process.
The requirement to orientate the non-Wancho participants to the project, as none of them had any prior exposure to Wancho culture and folklore, was the incentive to begin the workshop with a storytelling session by the Wancho participants and a reading of the script that had been drafted for the Story of the Gourd. Jatwang Wangsa, who was the seniormost member of the Wancho group, presented an introduction to Wancho knowledge, art, and culture that highlighted the extent of community engagement in activities that include fishing, hunting, and agriculture and house construction. The media students and professionals were instructed to visualize the text in their own way, by drawing sequences as thumbnail sketches that could be used to expand and improve the existing storyboard. The variety of shots planned at the storyboard stage includes the use of close-ups to create a visual variety that sustains the viewer’s interest. The animatic refines the rhythm and pace, which should also be variable to keep the viewers’ attention. The aim was to produce a film of a professional standard of production and the technical knowledge of the animation team would contribute to resolving the challenges of the production phase.
The question of the appropriate level of guidance in the workshops was negotiated in an attempt to locate a synthesis between teaching and encouraging experimentation. The experimental approach to animation practice had been introduced as a form of artistic self-expression at Harvard in 1968, and according to Caroline Leaf (cited by Schenkel, 1976), the class had been open to all. Drawing abilities and film knowledge were not prerequisites, and there was very little formal teaching: The main goal was to create movement. Leaf (cited by Ajanović, 2002) credits her own creativity to the fact that the students were largely left alone to find their own solutions. A more structured approach is compatible with conventional traditions of guru–shishya parampara (Kashalkar-Karve, 2013) apprenticeship in India, hence the decision to include introductory lessons in the specialized processes of animation. The guidance by media practitioners during the production reduced the feeling of uncertainty and indecisiveness. The exchange of ideas, skills, and exposure through the co-creative process in a learning environment also fulfills the traditional value of reciprocity (Kirkness & Barnhardt, 1991). Consequently, the daily program for the workshop was designed to encourage reciprocal learning between the participants, researchers, and animators (Rossouw, 2009), and to achieve a synthesis between cultural research and the practical applications of film production, engagement by animators, and contributions from local participants.
It was decided by the team that they would work on one section of the film during the workshop: The story of the two brothers who descended from the sky to earth that had been pretested in the village using the technique of pixilated animation. According to this method of straight-ahead filming, human actors enact their character roles in a series of single images or poses, and the effect is controlled by the breakdown of the movement filmed at each frame. The topic of acting was introduced by Vijay Punia (from Shrishti Manipal Institute), at the start of the workshop through a set of practical exercises that were designed to put the Wancho students at ease and demonstrate that voice modulation and exaggerated movement are essential for giving animated characters personality and bringing them to life in a convincing manner. These were exercises that explored the delivery of dialogue at escalating levels of intensity, drama, posture, and gesture to understand character staging and performance. A lively vocal performance will help create an energetic and “animated” character.
Pixilated animation is moderately fast to produce in comparison to other forms of animation, and the Wancho participants who volunteered to perform as the two characters dressed in traditional Wancho attire enjoyed their central role in the process. The team favored the idea of using the two masks that had been made previously in the village from dried gourds for each of the actors. In Wancho tradition, gourds were occasionally used as masks during the female tattoo ceremony, and for the animated film, the masks gave the supernatural brothers an ‘alien’ presence that reiterated the theme of the story: the emergence of the chief—whose status is regarded as divinely ordained—from the gourd, which concludes the story. The requirement for precisely controlled lighting to film green-screen images that could be color-keyed for compositing with separately designed backgrounds was resolved by dividing the screen into separate frames following a format similar to that of a comic book. This innovative presentation was considered by our technical directors as a way to enhance the visual interest of the film.
Techniques of Experimental Animation
The spectacular advancement of computer technology and software development in the fields of video, animation, and special effects production, and the capacity of high-end production studios to manage complex production pipelines is suited to large-scale animation production for blockbuster feature films, TV series, advertising, and the computer games industry. The overall perception is that computer technology has made animation less tedious to produce. However, to master the leading software packages to create digital 2D animation and high-end 3D digital platforms such as Maya, entails steep learning curves, the patent advantage of technical training and computer coding skills, and the requirement for workstations and rendering farms to process large quantities of data. The scope of the virtual environment, which circumvents the physical challenges of the real world, appears to be infinite, which further imposes the need for specialized knowledge in each specific area of CGI production. The hyperrealistic output can be described as an overpolished synthetic image resulting from the impact of computer technology on the production of animation, when compared to the earlier handmade techniques of experimental animation.
Experimentation in animation is an overshadowed area of practice that covers abstract animation, innovative approaches to narrative and the experimental use of materials and techniques. This type of animation is personal, subjective, and original, and for artists like Oskar Fischinger, Norman McLaren, and James Whitney, who pioneered abstract animation to explore rhythm and movement, animation was an art medium to express themselves. The emotional and spiritual relationship between the artist and the work stimulates viewers to develop emotional, philosophical, and spiritual connections with the artist, which suggests how the use of experimental approaches would be somewhat similar to indigenous artistic traditions.
Each day of the workshop began with a film screening session of animated films by independent artists and filmmakers to inspire the group with ideas and design approaches for the production. The films included some that had either been directed by indigenous filmmakers or had been produced as collaborative ventures with indigenous people from Canada, Africa, Australia, Native America, Estonia, and the Arctic. From this collection, Dust Echoes (2007) was an example of the attractive contemporary presentation of some traditional Aboriginal dreamtime stories from Australia: Each film in the series showcased a different visual style combining hand-drawn artwork and computer-generated imagery that had been developed by independent studios in collaboration with indigenous storytellers. In contrast, the Maggot Feeder (2012), a dark and surreal film by Estonian film-maker Pritt Tender that is based on a Chukchi folktale from Siberia, was a clear departure from the softness, curves, and big saucer eyes associated with cuteness that feature in many commercial productions.
Experimental animation has multiple layers and styles. For instance, Georges Schwizgebel’s films were created by a technique of painting on glass directly under the camera, and the award-winning film L’Homme sans ombre (The Man with No Shadow) (2004) that has no dialogue allows scenes to flow organically into one another through the metamorphosis of forms. The films by Barry Purves are exemplary of the technique of stop-motion animation: A format that is intuitive, hands-on, and fun to do. Stop-motion animation is a technique to bring life to inanimate objects and handmade articulated puppets that are specifically built for the purpose. Purves (2010, p. 34) contends that stop-motion is a form of animation practice that is created by a group working together on the same project, that communication becomes intrinsic to the process, and that a supportive team spirit develops that is rarely found in other animation techniques. These particular views echo similar comments about the function of traditional practices in binding indigenous societies (Shyamacharan, 1993).
The use of stop-motion transfers texture to the output, and it can accommodate local materials such as clay, bamboo, beads, and textiles in the creation of the image. In the workshop, the Wancho team tried their hand at manipulating beads to create animated designs (as they had seen in Bead Game (1977) by Ishu Patel), and cutout artwork (which features in the films by Lotte Reiniger, Michel Ocelot, and Yuri Norstein). By this technique, they began to grasp the sense of timing, and awareness that a stop-motion puppet ought to be allowed to remain motionless from time to time, rather than for a character to be constantly on the move. Light painting photography is a long-exposure technique that could be filmed on the university campus at night. The camera is placed on a tripod and the light painter manually controls the shutter using “bulb-mode.” Illustrations are created with light and anywhere the light moves it will make light-trails. Wanhun,
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who had been a part of the storyboard and art teams in the workshop, reflected on what she had learnt:
From where I study, everything is software based. Besides 2D and 3D animation, I am very new to traditional animation; stop-motion animation, cut-out animation–I know about them, but I haven’t got deep into it, so it’s interesting and it makes me open to other forms of animation.
Her account accurately reflects the fact that in India, many animation training institutes are focused on preparing students with software skills for the commercial industry at the expense of encouraging experimentation.
A review of the outcome of these experiments showed that a synthesis of digital and handmade techniques would be the best approach to blend the digital skills of young designers and maintain the textures of traditional art. Animated sequences that are created with reference to tribal themes, symbols, and designs would encourage local artists and storytellers to explore a new level by interacting with contemporary modern elements. The fact that the workshops also provided the environment for studying the participation by young people and the issues of representing indigenous cultures through the medium of animation also connected with a directive that had been cited by Smith (1999, p. 125) for approaches to community projects that place emphasis on the process. The workshop activities generated data in the form of photographs, artwork, audio recordings, video documentation, and animation. These materials presented opportunities for participants to share their reality in visually captivating ways and provided material for discussion on the findings.
Multidisciplinary Learning and Discussion
The project to adapt selected narratives from indigenous oral traditions is to revisit the current marginalized status of tribal cultures in the broad Indian social structure and within the North-East region, where attitudes of tribalism constantly threaten to separate communities that do not cooperate, and each group is entirely concerned by the projection of their own identity, culture, and political voice (Verghese, 1997, p. 97; Wittenstein, 2014, p. 18). The activity of developing media content that is based on local storytelling traditions challenges the influence of the media as the instrument of homogenization by which local cultural elements are overwhelmed. The research for The Stories of Our Ancestors seeks to enhance the knowledge and understanding of how cultural identities that are so far silenced and excluded from the media, and specifically the medium of animation, can be introduced in contemporary, creative presentations that would enable the local knowledge to be communicated across cultures.
The willingness to enter into multidisciplinary fields of research to study the folklore traditions introduced multiple levels of interpretation to the story adaptation. For instance, the consistent references to anthropological knowledge during the workshop illustrated how theory can enrich the media practice to produce informed representations, illuminate the ethical issues of cultural ownership, and promote more balanced partnerships with people who continue to be marginalized in society. The workshop reminded us that ours is a dominant overarching view, and at the periphery, it is not just one view but multiple. A reflective practice aids recognition of the influence of one’s own culture on the interpretations, thereby enabling us to register any latent attitude of dominance that may arise from having acquired professional expertise in a specialized field of study. It is by a reflective approach at the field site and in sustained interactions with research participants that the observer becomes the observed. Light is shed on our reliance on professional roles to achieve a sense of authenticity (Ferrara, 1998, p. 4) and the masks that are commonly worn to please more powerful others. Accordingly, we are directed to connect to the ideal self, which illustrates the potential for research to evoke transformational agency similar to the function of the Wancho myths for the storyteller.
A valuable insight that emerged from the workshop was that by integrating disciplines, local informants, and knowledge, the expanded range of perspectives enriches the reading of the text. Xavier Mao, Professor of Philosophy at North-Eastern Hill University, discussed the symbolism and metaphor of indigenous folklore, and he explained that it is by the process of deconstructing the symbols, that the wisdom that is embedded within the narrative becomes relevant and meaningful. Similarly, Wancho festivities that celebrate the key points of the agricultural cycle are linked to the accumulated knowledge of the topography, soil, and climate, upon which the farmer depends for his livelihood. Devesh Walia’s presentation 6 about the geological composition of the soil and rocks of the Wancho landscape introduced another reading of the geographical features inscribed in stories that define indigenous Wancho connections to the earth. By shifting between emic and etic views, at first listening to the accounts of traditional knowledge, and then examining the isolated elements in detail; by integrating the complementary strengths of science and art for research, interpretation, and creative action, this was instructive for synthesizing a holistic panorama of Wancho cultural life to connect us to the cosmology of the stories.
Adaptation from the Oral Narrative to Animated Film
The folklore of the Wancho community is an obscure, neglected area of study, and there are few published sources available, other than a few stories that are included in Verrier Elwin’s Myths of the North-east Frontier of India (1958). The adaptation and presentation of traditional stories in new contemporary formats can make the material accessible to new audiences at a different time or cultural context (Cartmell & Wehelan, 2010, p. 21). This would expand awareness about the values that inform local cultural traditions: In this case, the Wancho maintain that community cooperation, resource management, and fair distribution are the foundation of their society.
Folktales, passed on by word of mouth, are typically expanded and shaped by storytellers. Adaptation through retelling has given rise to many versions of a single folktale as evidenced by the Wancho folklore, and in other stories that are shared by multiple communities in the region. The procedure of adaptation to the medium of animated film is the extension of the process, and the short film The Wancho Story of the Gourd, as an outcome of the research, does not represent a single definitive version of the story. The film-making process is one of tremendous selectivity (Heider, 2007, p. 86)—specifically the decision of what to leave out. To proceed with translation from text to the audio-visual format, the film-maker typically refers to the existing knowledge about the language of film to compress the narrative and focus on the leading characters and plot.
Myths and folklore have been the source material for numerous popular adaptations, including the films by Walt Disney Studios. Worldwide and in India in particular, commercial animation is projected as juvenile entertainment, and young people are familiar with formulas that have been developed by companies such as Disney Studios to maximize audience satisfaction and enjoyment when they are able to identify and read common universalities in themes, characters, and actions. In this case, it is the additions to the source that are largely responsible for an adaptation’s box-office success (Cartmell & Wehelan, 2010, p. 73). However, the singular intention of pleasing the audience may actually mask the influence of the producer’s role in steering the discernment of the audience toward a particular type of content (Appadurai, 1990, p. 307). Seeing this, we can recognize the integrity of producing sensitive, positive media content that benefits the community over aiming for large audiences as the measure of success.
The Wancho folklore displays a cyclical nonlinear temporal structure. The impulse is to standardize characters for The Story of the Gourd, and to reassemble and stabilize the narrated events in a logical manner by drawing links between actions and outcomes that simplify the reading of the story. As Abhishek
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pointed out, “these stories are difficult to interpret through our conditioning and our logic.” The question of simplification or addition must be approached carefully, so as not to undermine the original format and meaning of the story, and the workshop setting was the forum to discuss what is acceptable, and to whom. For instance, preserving the specific names of places mentioned in the story reaffirms to the Wancho people that that story is local and part of Wancho heritage. As Abhishek noted:
one thing that I often see people like us trying to do is that we try to force our own logic—because we are also trying to understand the folkloric traditions in a certain way and we use where we come from but in that process we might just endanger that story’s nature in a big way by universalizing it or by misinterpreting it or by changing its context.”(Wancho Animation Workshop 2021)
The workshop, scholarship, and critical discussions were crucial for prompting intimate observation of the image-making process. As with ethnographic film, supplementing the animated artifact with textual analysis supports its position and demonstrates critical reflection.
The Narrator of the Story
An important question that emerged in the workshop that related to the role of narration in the film highlights the different ways of telling a story. The film script for The Wancho Story of the Gourd that was drafted by me had been constructed to avoid wordy, redundant narration. However, the resource people with formal training in animation film design expressed the view that the narration provided by the script was insufficient, as it permitted ambiguity in the progression of the story which could be confusing for general viewers. The question of minimizing narrative ambiguity in any film production is an issue for study and discussion. Stern (1936, pp. 134–135), who had worked as a script doctor at Universal Studios, had spoken of the mechanical process of screen adaptation in Hollywood that meant the reduction of “every story to the lowest level of human intelligence, the assimilation of every idea to the spirit and grain of the universal Average Man.”
In her online presentation for the workshop, Leslie Mackenzie, Director of West Highland Animation, shed light on shamanic cultures that represent a different way of seeing and relating to the world. In her view, the adaptation would require a process of negotiation to satisfy the local community, as well as inviting first-time viewers from outside the region to advance beyond familiar territory. Jatwang Wangsa, reflecting on the subject of local viewership, valued the lengthy discussions with the animators. He felt that although the artistic representation was important, the reception of the film would be enhanced by simple details that are easy to recognize, follow, and understand. As laymen in this field, most villagers would be unaware of the artistic achievement. He added that the elders would certainly appreciate the film because of its representation of Wancho culture. Commercial animation—examples are Motu-Patla and Doremon—does not sustain interest because it is regarded by them as juvenile entertainment.
Ayan 8 further observed that it would be “a fine line of going the experimental route and also keeping in mind the audience that we are trying to focus on and what they are used to watching to make it palatable.” The new narration that had been reworked by the animators and translated into Hindi and Wancho in the workshop may require editing as we decipher the optimum amount of narration to ensure that the film is not confusing, but maintains the mysterious sublime quality of the original story. Interestingly, the direct descendent of the protagonist of the story resides in Kamhua Noknu village. Integrating his voice as the narrator’s perspective would lend a direct, personal angle to the film which approximates the original format of the oral tradition to enhance the appeal derived from its foundation in local history.
Visual Design
The technical team appreciated that the film would set an example for the Wancho community: “it has a potential to put north east on a global platform to make it accessible to non north-easterners” (Abhishek, Wancho Animation Workshop 2021), and “It is going to be one of those spearheads into the Wancho community” (Sanjoyana, Wancho Animation Workshop 2021).
The stake in the project fostered a sense of responsibility for the young designers and film-makers toward the Wancho film, and they elicited concern about the quality of the output, as was communicated by Abhishek:
I definitely want it to have a certain visual quality that is good to look at… I won’t use words like pretty or beautiful because we have certain associations with these words but I would want it to have a certain level of finesse, a quality that it can pass off as a serious film worked on by serious people…I want it to have a certain level of quality and finesse that it does not look mainstream; I don’t want it to look like a Disney Pixar sort of a film nor do I want it to look like something that my friends would casually do. It is not a casual thing, it is a very serious thing, it is a story of a community. (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021)
Originality
The media professionals and the students of design were drawn to the project because of its originality. Abhishek explained: “coming across this workshop, it brings so many of the things that I am passionate about together at the same time. It talks about storytelling, it talks about indigenous folklores, and communities” (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021). Abhishek further disclosed his attraction to folktales and myths that do not “operate according to these formulas or linear techniques that we have developed over the years in the mainstream culture.” Ayan was also critical of the stereotypical format of scripts for Indian animated films. This film would be different:
first of all it is a folktale that comes from a remote part of India with various intricate concepts that come in the film that are very novel to us as an outsider…we are used to watching films about relationships, love family…homogenous universal concepts but these are new things, you need to try out to expand your palette. (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021)
The observations by the participants that already had broad exposure to a variety of films suggest that the reductive narrative strategies that are employed to minimize risk in film production, do not take into account audience diversity. Therefore, it can be argued that the novelty of structure and content is as distinctive as technical innovation. The broad scope of online content that is the main source of information for young people arguably contributes to the demand for niche films that appeal to a range of interests. Looking at the vast potential resource of original Indian indigenous narratives and folk art styles, it is perfectly feasible that experimentation by indigenous artists and animation practitioners can contribute to demonstrating that traditional does not have to mean unoriginal. The resource of tribal narratives and art forms could contribute originality to Indian animated films. Abhishek recognized that “Many people in the north east don’t know about the Wancho people…so it has a lot to offer to a person who is not familiar with this culture because curiosity is something which is innate in all of us and we are always looking for newer things and this offers that.”
The designers also communicated their preference for opportunities that lead to original work: according to Sanjoyana, “I like collaborative work rather than going into a corporate work…I have never actually thought about income like that, I would like to do something that I love to do rather than compromise.” This was clearly the attraction of the workshop that inspired her to volunteer for it.
Conclusion
The main focus of the research is to advance knowledge about the use of animation for cultural representation, and the role of anthropology and community engagement in the process to create better-informed films. Scholars of anthropology and Wancho participants alike recognized the benefit of working with film to communicate with the world at large, potentially enabling people from different groups to work together through the shared language of the media and over distances via the internet that would not have been possible. For those who were unfamiliar with animation practice, the workshop also showed that the meaning we get from a film is the result of a collaborative effort by many people.
The workshop became a way to encourage cultural and political communication by Wancho people. It introduced Wancho culture and narrative traditions at a prominent institute of higher education in the region as the topic for discussion. The Wancho participants took pride in the interest shown toward their stories, rituals, customs, and artistic practices. It is expected that this will strengthen their motivation to study, document, and sustain their cultural heritage and that, over and above, the ambition to seek government employment, they will recognize the value of one day becoming the elder knowledge keepers of the community.
The participation by animators has functioned to accomplish some practical targets of animation production. Their participation also provided cultural exposure and work experience to the animators as part of the objective of this research to raise awareness of the value of indigenous culture with non-indigenous people; it was also evidently inspiring for the young participants to work with technically skilled artists of their own age group, and this contributed to their level of engagement in the participatory practices. Jatwang Wangsa noted that shared experience led to becoming a member of a team. The creative environment was, therefore, not only about gaining information, but of mixing, gathering, sharing, and analyzing.
Wancho culture was presented in a format that is interesting and engaging for newcomers to the research field. As Sanjoyana put it, “Documenting with different media gives it more authenticity than just writing a document about it. You can see it, hear it, you will have a personal take on the story.” The discussions invited by the educational setting of the workshop and the university provoked awareness about the covert aspects of meta-narratives, the commercial interests, and knowledge hierarchy of modernization and development (Weiler, 2009), and of the totalizing interpretations of indigenous cultures that are propagated by the media. As Abhishek observed:
it is a very difficult road to walk when it comes to working with indigenous folklores and traditions and that is something that comes with years and years of research and experience of working with a community, how to handle this kind of delicate material. (Wancho Animation Workshop 2021)
Reflecting on his design education, Abhishek reported that folk culture “had not been explained in a very holistic manner. We just notice that ethnic fashion is trending, let me do something in that thing; you need to explain why are people going back to ethnic designs.”
The principal challenge that the workshop presented was that of communication and translation: the diverse team included speakers of Wancho, Khasi, Bengali, Assamese, Nepali, and Malayali. All participants had at least some knowledge of Hindi and English, which led to situations of receptive multilingualism (Rehbein et al., 2012) by which speakers and listeners communicate by alternately employing different languages (either Hindi or English) as vehicles of speaking and of understanding. Hindi was the language most often used by the resource team and the Wancho participants. It was important that the technical procedures were explained in Hindi, for those who were not well versed in English. However, not all participants were fluent in Hindi: For instance, my knowledge of the language is rudimentary. This meant that discussions became a deliberate process of interpreting concepts and information from one language to another, and particular meanings and nuances may have been overlooked or mistranslated. The question arises to what extent linguistic means determine intercultural understanding, as intercomprehension is also derived from nonverbal signals.
I suggest that the formal setting of the university conference room is likely to have contributed to the reserve of some younger participants toward articulating their experiences openly in a gathering. It could be further argued to what extent the government system of education in Arunachal Pradesh stimulates self-reflection and critical analysis from students. Smaller focus group discussions were a more intimate place for sharing ideas. Focus group discussions that are similar to talking circles (from the indigenous traditions of North America) allow for shared storytelling and personal narratives to promote relationships with each other and with the topic of research. The audio-visual material in Wancho and Hindi that was recorded in interviews, and the focus group discussions with the participants during the workshop, require translation into English to be able to organize, interpret, and analyze the data.
The second challenge was the tension of coordinating sufficient time for discussion and meeting the practical targets of producing some animated sequences for the film by the conclusion of the workshop. The workshop had initially been planned as a three-week-long event which would have provided for the participants to adjust to the new environment, get to know each other, and understand the objectives of the research. However, since the project is based at a center in the North-East region, this has promoted sustained community participation in the research and the media production, when compared to the earlier Tales of the Tribes series for which production was based in New Delhi.
The contrasting backgrounds of the participants, some who were urban, and others who were immersed in Wancho culture, provoked a variety of perspectives and inputs that contributed to the originality of the work. The coordinator’s Art College background, and the participation by students and graduates from the National Institute of Design, is likely to have introduced more diverse exposure to a wider range of film-making styles for the participants from the North-East than had the project been organized by any other group of media professionals. The influence of the cultural exchange that took place can be seen in the animated sequences of the film that present the scenes with elegance and artistry. It was clear that exposure to a diversity of audio-visual narrative representations can lead to a more sophisticated presentation that may be more attuned to transcending cultural boundaries.
The workshop illuminated the scope and vitality of the contribution by Wanchos to any project to adapt and communicate their traditions to new audiences, and it boosted their confidence to approach media professionals for partnerships and assistance in the future to communicate their cultural identity to audiences further afield. Through the workshop, the Wancho participants developed a depth of interest in animation, and once equipped with the Stop Motion Studio app on their mobile phones, they began to record simple animated sequences without supervision.
The research and the activity of the workshop established relationships between me, the topic of research and members of the Wancho community, and between the participants who will maintain contact through a WhatsApp group. The next phase of film production will be the work of animators to complete it according to schedule. However, I suggest that the engagement that took place in the workshop has reduced the possibility that the film becomes an imitative version of Wancho culture which is cut off from its roots. If the animation directors keep in regular contact with the Wancho consultants, locally commissioned animated films may yet become a hybrid artifact of contemporary Wancho life.
The strategy for distributing the film on its completion remains to be chalked out. Online dissemination was put forward as the first option by the participants. As Ayan said, “I do not expect this film to come on TV. For TV broadcast, you need to jump over a lot of hurdles and meet a lot of expectations, certain universal expectations for a content to be that universal to reach out and to make it on TV.” Screening programs in schools, cultural venues, and festivals may be appropriate avenues for distribution because, as Ayan noted: “these are alternate stories and these deserve to be narrated, these deserve people’s attention.” Dedicated screening events that were organized for the previous Tales of the Tribes series of films at community centers and universities became the occasion for initiating further discussion about tribal representations in the media. The community will be informed about any follow-up activities: publications and the completion of the film; the premiere screening, book launch and future marketing and distribution.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
