Take back the tube (we media)

Journal of Media Practice Volume 8 Number 2 © Intellect Ltd 2007

Article. English language. doi: 10.1386/jmpr.8.2.183/1

‘Take back the tube!’: The discursiveconstruction of amateur film and video makingDavid Buckingham University of London

Maria Pini University of London

Rebekah Willett University of London

AbstractThis article focuses on the discursive construction of amateur film- and video-making within popular books, manuals and magazines, dating from 1921 to thepresent day. The theoretical approach derives primarily from Pierre Bourdieu’sanalysis of ‘cultural fields’, as developed particularly in his work on photography.We begin by exploring the broad rhetoric of ‘democratisation’ that characterisespopular discussions of the potential of amateur film- and video-making. This leadson to a discussion of how the technology itself is framed and defined; how theidentity of the amateur film-maker, and the social uses of amateur film-making,are constructed; and how the aesthetic dimensions of this practice are identified.Despite the excitement which commonly surrounds new visual representationaltechnology, and despite the accelerating pace of technological change, we arguethat there is a considerable historical continuity in terms of how amateur film-making is framed and defined.

In 1982, several major manufacturers agreed on a standard for the one-piecevideo camera/recorder. By the end of that year, the word ‘camcorder’ hadentered the English language. By 1985, one in thirty American familiesowned one and by 1991, this figure had risen dramatically to one in six(Baum 1991). Today in Britain, one third of all households now own digitalversions of the camcorder, whilst a further proportion own analogue mode(Ofcom 2006). The camcorder has become a commonplace domestic tech-nology, which is much more widely accessible even than the inexpensiveSuper-8 film cameras that preceded it.

The research we present in this article is drawn from a larger projectlooking at the diverse uses of video camcorders in contemporary Britain.1

As well as gaining a broad view of the use of camcorders in the UnitedKingdom, we are examining different ‘camcorder cultures’, ranging fromskateboarders to citizen journalists to amateur pornographers, andlooking at how camcorders are integrated into households. In line withPierre Bourdieu’s (1990) analysis of the ‘middle-brow art’ of photography,we are exploring how the cultural field of amateur video making is sociallyorganised. Our focus here, however, is not on the actual uses of these

183

Keywordsfilm-makingvideo-makingamateurfamily-history

JMP 8 (2) 183–201 © Intellect Ltd 2007

1 This project‘Camcorder Cultures:Media Technologiesand EverydayCreativity’, is fundedby the UK Arts andHumanities ResearchCouncil (referencenumber RG/112277),and based at theCentre for the Studyof Children, Youthand Media, Instituteof Education,University of London.

JMP_8_2_07-Willett 9/4/07 3:19 PM Page 183

media or the productions of amateur film and video makers, but rather onthe discursive construction of this practice within books, manuals, maga-zines and guides, dating from 1921 to the present day. As Bourdieu sug-gests, any given cultural field is regulated by discourses that attempt tolegitimise and accord social status to particular practices, and to delegit-imise or marginalise others. Thus, the literature we discuss in this articledefines the practice and purpose of amateur film making in quite specificways: it interpellates the user as a particular type of person, with particu-lar aims and needs, and thereby seeks to regulate their practice in particu-lar ways. The policing of boundaries between the ‘amateur’ and the‘professional’ is one key dimension of this broader process whereby socialand cultural hierarchies are established and sustained.

For this article, we have analysed the literature (handbooks, manuals,magazines, newspaper articles) in relation to a number of key themes:technology, the construction of the amateur filmmaker, social uses of themedium and aesthetics. For the data collection, we used existing archivesand materials available through opportunity. We examined handbooksand user guides available from the British Film Institute and purchasedthrough online auctions. We accessed newspaper articles online andthrough the British Library’s newspaper collection. Finally, for magazines,we purchased those available online and in shops, and focused mainly onthe time periods in which the camcorder developed and became widelyavailable: our selection of this latter material therefore dates from 1978 tothe present. Due to aims of the wider project (to examine UK-based cam-corder use) and the opportunity selection, the magazines are entirely UK-based, as are most of the early handbooks.

We begin by exploring the broad rhetoric of ‘democratisation’ thatcharacterises popular discussions of the potential of amateur film andvideo-making. To what extent is this practice seen as an alternative, evena challenge, to dominant modes of audio-visual expression – or is it merelyrecuperated as a harmless, trivial family pastime? This leads on to adiscussion of how the technology itself is framed and defined; how theidentity of the amateur film-maker, and the social uses of amateur film-making, are constructed; and how the aesthetic dimensions of this prac-tice are identified. Despite the excitement which commonly surrounds newvisual representational technology, and despite the accelerating pace oftechnological change, we argue that there is a considerable historical con-tinuity in terms of how amateur film-making is framed and defined.

A rhetoric of empowermentIncreasing levels of access to media production technologies have beenseen by some to promise considerable democratic potential. Camcordersare popularly believed to reconfigure the relationships of power between‘producers’ and ‘consumers’, or ‘professionals’ and ‘amateurs’. For MattYork, who started publishing Video Maker Magazine in 1986, camcordersare all about empowerment:

Camcorders today are more like what paper and ink were ten years agowhen anybody who was literate could express their spiritual or political

184 David Buckingham, Maria Pini and Rebekah Willett


feelings on paper. Now people use videos to get on television. There are moreand more outlets that provide more power to the individual.

(Video Maker Magazine 1986, quoted in Baum 1991)

The political potential of these developments is of course most apparent inpopular discussions of citizen journalism and vlogs (video blogs), whichare seen as providing challenges to mainstream news coverage. As early as1988, the first edition of Camcorder User was informing readers about howto make money by becoming ‘video newshounds’: when filming localsports events or weddings, there was always the chance that they couldstumble upon something newsworthy, which could then be sold to televi-sion news departments (whose telephone numbers the magazine helpfullyprovided). Similarly, ‘Video Vigilantes’ was a term coined by the British TVnews magazine Newsnight to describe ‘common folk with camcorders whocapture the spectacular and send it overnight to CNN’ (Baum 1991).Footage of the beating by police of Rodney King in March 1991 in LosAngeles is probably the best known example of such footage: it was broad-cast throughout the world, and was seen by many to have sparked the LosAngeles riots that followed. Likewise, news reports of the 9/11 attack onthe Twin Towers, the 2005 London bombings and more local events suchas a fuel depot explosion in Hemel Hempstead in the United Kingdom (alsoin 2005), relied heavily on footage shot on camcorders and mobile phones.This increasing employment of ‘user-generated content’ is seen by some torepresent a radical evolution, not just in the sources of news, but also inhow it is constructed and how the viewer is addressed (e.g. Pareles 2006).

However, such claims about the democratisation of the media are notlimited to news. Amateur filmmaking is seen by many to provide potentialalternatives to mainstream entertainment. Within the material we haveanalysed, the pleasures and the value of amateur filmmaking are often artic-ulated in terms of its otherness to, or independence from, a ‘mainstream’. TheComplete Idiot’s Guide to Making Home Videos, for example, explains the chal-lenge camcorder users are supposedly able to make to mainstream media:

Most people turn to television these days as a major source of informationand entertainment. Modern camcorders are perfectly capable of deliveringbroadcast-quality images, and with a little creativity and a basic knowledgeof shooting and editing, you’re perfectly capable of keeping your friends andfamily entertained for years to come. You hold the power of TV in the palmof your hand . . . It’s time to take back the tube!

(Beal 2000: xix)

Echoes of such ideas about creativity, access and expression recur through-out camcorder magazines, buyers’ guides and manufacturers’ publicitymaterial. While apparently aimed primarily at the amateur market, suchpublications increasingly appear to blur the distinctions between amateurand professional practice. In May 2003’s edition of Camcorder and DVDMoviemaker magazine, for example, one article proclaims the emergence of‘a new breed of ambitious filmmakers who want to get their work on thebig screen and no longer see technology as a barrier’ (17). In What Digital

185‘Take back the tube!’: The discursive construction of amateur film and . . .


Camcorder (November 2005) the reader is reminded that ‘with securing adistribution deal becoming more difficult, directors are resorting to DIYsolutions’ (82). Many such magazines include tips on how to break intothe film market, information about filmmaking courses, film competitionsand advice on applying for film project funding. Even the mobile phone isnow commonly sold on its ability to ‘unleash your movie maker potential’(product comparison test in Which Digital Camera November 2005: 48)

At the same time, the amateur is also seen to enjoy some advantagesover the professional, and to embody an alternative, perhaps more satisfy-ing, mode of production. Writing in 1962, Michael Bordwell explains thisin symptomatically masculine terms:

In the big film industry, the numerous workers keep strictly to their ownjobs. The director cannot touch a camera, the cameraman never thinks ofmoving a light, and the lighting assistant would feel very out of place in thecutting-room or projection-box. The amateur however, is his own master. Hecan, in turn, write the script, direct, act, shoot, edit and project. And he neednot worry about critics or box-office receipts. (13)

One dominant strain in this literature, therefore, is the construction of theamateur film and video maker as a free agent, able to record, edit andexhibit what they like. In the process, it is claimed, they are able to usetechnology in more creative and potentially challenging ways that mightultimately revolutionise ‘big’ media.

Recuperation and the ‘home mode’Yet to what extent is this technologically induced revolution actually takingplace? Laurie Ouellette (1995) remains unconvinced by what she sees as theempty rhetoric of empowerment through video production. For a number ofreasons, she argues, amateur video has failed, or more precisely not beenallowed, to live up to its radical potential. Looking at the debut in the UnitedStates of amateur television shows such as I Witness Video and America’s Fun-niest Home Movies, Ouellette argues that the selection of amateur footagethat actually gets shown remains firmly within what Richard Chalfen(1987) calls the ‘home mode’ – that is, the use of film for the representationof the private, domestic world of the (largely suburban, nuclear) family,rather than for the representation of more social, political, artistic or publicissues. This footage generally comprises ‘funny’, family-related momentsdepicting the socially sanctioned rituals comprising the heterosexual matrix:weddings, family barbeques, the arrival of the first born child, pets and tod-dlers, and so forth. Similar arguments could certainly be made of You’ve BeenFramed, the longest running camcorder footage show on British television.

As Ouellette suggests, the actual practice falls radically short of thekind of hype which surrounded the debut of these shows, and which isillustrated in the following voice-over introduction to the first episode ofI Witness Video (Spring 1992):

Any revolution puts power in the hands of the people, and the videorevolution is no different. With camcorders in hand, we the people



don’t just watch TV, we create programming that we can all watch ontelevision.

(Ouellette 1995: 40)

Contrary to such hype, argues Ouellette, ‘the people’ are anything but freeto create their own programming. As she puts it, ‘A powerful matrix ofmedia discourses has worked quickly to construct and contain camcorderpractices within a variety of boundaries’ (ibid: 42).

This recuperation is apparent not only in the ‘video blooper’ showsOuellette describes, but also in the way news programmes solicit and useamateur footage. As Zimmerman (1995) explains, amateur news footageis usually purchased only when network crews have themselves failed tocover an event; and the material that is included is obviously regulated byeditorial choice. Furthermore, Ouellette (1995) describes the pejorativemedia representations of amateur camcorder newshounds: ‘These dis-courses presented camcorders as a dangerous threat to innocent people.“Video vigilantism” and amateur “surveillance” were identified as the uglyunderside of America’s new fascination with camcorders . . .’ (39). Forthese critics, the fact that only very particular types of camcorder footageever make it onto network television dampens any premature excitementabout the radical challenges posed by the ‘people’ to the mainstreammedia industries.

Ouellette is addressing footage which is actually broadcast, althoughthese arguments can and have been applied to all such amateur film-making. As against the revolutionary claims, much of the material wehave analysed is dominated by an essentially domestic, or at least person-alised, conception of the field. For example, in his introduction to AmateurCinematography, Bordwell writes of amateur films:

These films are a faithful record of our lives. Big events and small have beentelescoped into a few vivid moments, which we can experience again as oftenas we wish. Intimate family reunions or crowded public meetings; the backgarden or a panorama of woods and mountains; scenes from childhood,from holidays at home and abroad – it’s all there, only needing the projectorto bring it to life.

(1962: 13)

This approach is typical of the material we have surveyed. What tofilm, where to film, who to film and how to film are, within such litera-ture, highly prescribed and regulated practices. As in Bourdieu’s(1990) analysis of still photography, only quite specific events, practicesand people are considered ‘appropriate’ subject matter for filming.The primary function of the amateur film is the registration of particularaspects of ‘personal’ life. This continues to be apparent in contem-porary marketing pitches. The dominance of the family in the olderadvertising material surveyed by Zimmerman (1995) has perhapsbeen replaced by a more individualistic emphasis, but the notion ofthe technology as residing in the personal sphere is neverthelesssustained. A Sony advertisement from 1991, for example, attempts to



entice younger consumers to buy smaller camcorders for their holidaysas follows:

Something happens between the milestones. Between the weddings and thebirthday parties. It’s called the rest of your life

(quoted Baum 1991)

A similar emphasis is apparent in a more recent example from 2007:

Your trip to Paris. Your child’s first steps. College graduation. Life is full ofmoments that are well worth remembering. There’s no better way to capturethose moments than with a Sony Handycam® camcorder.

(Sony Electronics 2007)

For critics such as Ouellette and Zimmerman, this continuing dominanceof the ‘home mode’ represents a kind of betrayal of the revolutionarypotential of the technology. Nevertheless, it is important to question theassumption that the ‘home mode’ is inevitably conservative, and merelyacts to reinforce traditional (nuclear, heterosexual) ‘family values’. Theadvent of the camcorder may not have revolutionised mainstream media,but its role in the sphere of personal life is unlikely to have straightforwardor predictable consequences. Yet even those who have sought to reclaimthe ‘home mode’ (notably Moran 2002) seem strangely reluctant toexplore how ‘ordinary’ people actually use this technology in their dailylives – and this is a gap that our broader research is attempting to address.

The power of technology?One of the evident dangers in such debates is that of technological deter-minism – the notion that technology will single-handedly precipitatesocial change, whether for good or ill. Discourses about the impact of tech-nology, and about the rapid pace of technological change, are perenniallyrehearsed throughout the historical material we have surveyed. In 1929,we find Wheeler claiming: ‘Amateur cinematography is advancing sorapidly that for some time to come it will not be easy to keep pace with itin the matter of instructions’ (v). More than 75 years later, in the editor’sintroduction to the magazine What Digital Camcorder, (October 2005), thereader is told: ‘it’s fair to say that the digital video marketplace is virtuallyunrecognisable to what it was just 18 months ago and consumers are allthe better for it’ (3).

Part of this rapid evolution is seen to involve an ongoing simplificationof technology. In 1928, Cameron celebrated the advent of the 16mm film,stressing how this enabled the ‘normal man’ to make a motion picturefilm. As he put it ‘a motion picture record of baby from the day of his birthup through the years may be made by anyone capable of operating anordinary Kodak, at a cost well within his means’ (6). In 1938, Sewell like-wise stressed the growing ease of amateur film: ‘As time goes on morecameras will be evolved which will be utterly simple to load and to use andwhich will embody within themselves every possible foolproof gadget, so thattaking movies will be as nearly trouble-free as is humanly possible’ (113).



This simplification is somehow seen to permit a more direct registration ofthe complexity and richness of personal identity and personal life: thus, inApril 2005, a camcorder is advertised within What Digital Camcorder mag-azine as the ‘simple camera for more than simple people’ (6).

Related to this theme of simplification is the idea that technology isblurring the boundaries between professional and amateur filmmaking. In1940, The Amateur Cinema League produced A Guide to Making BetterMovies, which refers repeatedly to the ‘small and determined faction offilm camera owners whose goal it is to make theatrical films with all theprofessionalism at their command’ (Katelle 2000: 252). In November2006, Digital Video Magazine enthusiastically supported the challenge thatamateurs pose to professionals as a result of new technology: ‘Inexpensivemoviemaking kit in the hands of people who want to prove their filmmak-ing talent by making great films is a hundred times more appealing thanexpensive kit in the hands of people who are deliberately churning outtosh simply to pander to the trendily ironic’ (27).

‘Format wars’, in which filmmakers debate the merits of differentformats in terms of quality of sound and image and ease-of-use, have beenraging since the first camcorders emerged (and previously with differentgauges of film). Nevertheless, advances in technology are generally seen toimprove the quality of filmmaking. The argument here is that new tech-nologies aid creativity – instead of getting bogged down with technology,filmmakers can focus on the making of a film. As Squires (1992)describes, ‘[camcorders’] capacity to “think for you” means that you canspend less time worrying about technology and more concentrating ongood video-making’ (5).

Even so, these arguments about the benefits and the democratic poten-tial of technology sit awkwardly alongside a continuing emphasis on theneed for learning. For example, Squires (1992) goes on to warn that auto-matic functions inhibit the experimentation and creative solutions whichare required with manual operated equipment (10); and in this respect,the user is seen to need knowledge of the technology in order to put it tobest use. In all the literature discussed here, the camera is presented as apiece of technology which requires a careful and ongoing process of famil-iarisation; while film-making itself also requires education, aided bymanuals, guides, handbooks and even instructional films. In a 2005 issueof What Digital Camera, the reader is told: ‘To get the most out of it, a cam-corder should be like a new best friend. So it’s worth taking the time to getto know the ins and outs of its technology before deciding which one youwant to make part of the family’ (What Digital Camcorder October 2005:18). Accordingly, current magazines are filled with technology-demystify-ing tips, ‘jargon busters’ and advice.

The discourse around technology within these publications is thussomewhat double-edged. On the one hand, readers are told about newcameras which are ‘completely idiot proof ’, ‘suitable even for completetechno-duffers’ (What Digital Camcorder November 2005: 63). Yet on theother, there is a recurring emphasis on the need for extra learning andthe effort that is required to keep abreast of technological developments.As we shall see, this suggests that distinctions between ‘amateurs’ and



‘professionals’ are not so much being abolished as reformulated: technologycomes to serve as a marker of distinction, not just between the professionaland the ‘complete techno-duffer’, but between different grades or cate-gories of amateur.

Defining the amateurAs we have seen, the distinction between the professional and the amateurcan be defined in various ways. On the one hand, the amateur can beregarded as an individual with simple needs, restricted skills and limitedambitions. Yet on the other, amateurs can also be seen to enjoy a degree ofcreative freedom that is denied to the majority of professionals. Ratherthan a binary distinction, the material we have surveyed constructs a con-tinuum, with true professionals at one end and users who simply ‘pointand shoot’ at the other. In between these poles, the amateur is variouslyaddressed and defined – as the ‘ordinary user’ or ‘man in the street’, incontrast with ‘the out-and-out enthusiast with his peculiar needs andpeculiar standards’ (Sewell 1938: 11); as someone who is ‘his ownmaster’, in contrast with someone who has to worry about critics and box-office receipts (Bordwell 1962); as someone who has to cover all theaspects of the filmmaking process, in contrast with those who havespecialised professional skills (Digital Video Magazine November 2005);as someone who takes time to plan, instead of filming whatever takes hisor her fancy (Cleave 1988); as someone who is ambitious and sees post-production as challenging and creative, rather than someone who filmsthe same subjects and has no desire to produce a finished product (Squires1992); and as someone who is interested in learning about and applyingtheir knowledge of technology, film grammar and editing, rather thanbeing content with faults such as poor lighting, too much zooming and alack of advance planning (What Digital Camcorder November 2005: 71).

These different positions on the continuum are to some extent reflectedin the range of technological devices that are used, and that are availableon the market. As Zimmerman (1995) explains, the production of differ-ent film gauges (8mm, 16mm or 35mm) was partly a matter of definingparticular kinds of users – and indeed, for the industry, of sustaining andpolicing the distinction between amateurs and professionals. Contemporarydiscussions of current models of camcorders make similar distinctions, forexample between camcorders designed for ‘the beginner’, ‘for those userslooking to take more control over their moviemaking’, ‘for enthusiaststhat offer a real taste of pro performance on a budget’ and ‘broadcast-quality’ (Digital Video Magazine March 2007). Likewise, CNET’s reviewwebsite (reviews.cnet.com) identifies cameras that are appropriate forseveral distinct categories of amateur video-makers, including the ‘homeand vacation videomaker’, the ‘budget buyer’, the ‘trendsetter’ (whowants ‘the coolest, most cutting-edge features available’), the ‘independentfilmmaker’ (who wants to ‘shoot like a pro’) and the non-professional‘business videographer’ wanting to please their boss.

However, the key distinction in the material we have analysed is betweenthe amateur, the enthusiast who invests in technology and creates artisticfinished products, and the everyday user, who owns relatively inexpensive



technology (with no accessories) and does not plan or edit his or her films.Everyday users are typically identified with the ‘home mode’ in its crudestand most unreconstructed form: their video cameras are used primarilyfor keeping records of family life. These polarised positions are thus distin-guished in terms of their purpose for using the technology, their identity asusers of technology, and the time and money they devote to their pastime.By definition, most of the books and magazines we have analysed areaddressed to readers who are aspiring to move (or in the process of moving)from being everyday users to becoming more committed amateurs, andhence have an interest in improving their practice (and in investing inmore expensive equipment). It is through the process of ‘othering’ theeveryday users that this key distinction is created and sustained: thus, it isalways others who are uncreative, who do not plan their filming, and whobore their audiences with poorly shot, unedited family movies.

Even so, there are some interesting historical variations in how thesedistinctions are defined and maintained. In fact, the earliest example ofsuch material we could obtain addresses the amateur cinematographer assomeone who wanted to make a finished movie. Lescaboura’s CinemaHandbook (1921), which is generally seen as the first manual for the non-professional filmmaker (Katelle 2000), instructs the reader in how toproduce a ‘photoplay’, complete with script, cast, makeup and director.Here the amateur is very clearly constructed as wanting to emulate theprofessionals. As we shall see, the emphasis on ‘learning from the profes-sionals’ is a continuing strain in this literature, but in general the ‘homemode’ is much more prevalent than in this first handbook by Lescaboura.Indeed, from 1928 onwards, the key handbooks invariably make greatplay of the filming of babies and children growing up. Magazines aimedspecifically at ‘home movie making’ existed from the 1950’s onwards; andcurrent magazines (with subtitles such as ‘The practical guide to makingbetter home movies’) continue to feature clips of family holidays andspecial events in their features on editing.

Yet even if amateurs are defined primarily in relation to the ‘homemode’, they are nevertheless seen to be interested in improving their film-making. From the earliest books, the amateur is constructed as ambitious,as wanting to know about the rules of film, and needing practical knowl-edge before starting to film. The amateur is defined not just as a recorderof family life, but as an entertainer, as someone interested in technology,as someone who wants to construct ‘a film which shows his particularhandwriting’ (Strausser 1937: 7). By the 1960s, it was common to psy-chologise (or characterise the ‘mental’ properties of) the ‘good’ filmmaker.The notion of the amateur filmmaker as an ‘artist’, as opposed to a meretechnician, was firmly established. In 1964, Broderick writes of the goodamateur filmmaker as follows:

Firstly he must have imagination. Good films don’t just happen. He is going tohave to think up the ideas for his films, interpret the mood of the scene he isshooting in terms of angle etc . . . Secondly, he must have a degree of technicalknow-how. Thirdly, he must have a calm and patient personality . . . Finally, thecine film enthusiast should be a man of understanding and compassion. (12)



As implied in these (again, symptomatically masculine) constructions ofthe amateur, it takes time to become more than a ‘point and shoot’ user.Planning and editing obviously involve an investment of time on the partof the serious amateur, as does learning about the technology, filmgrammar and techniques discussed above.

Money is also an issue, albeit an ambivalent one. On the one hand,changes in technology have steadily reduced the cost of making films –and this has contributed to the belief in the democratic potential ofmoving image technology. Yet this is by no means a new idea. As early as1928, Cameron claimed that the ‘advent of the 16mm film, with its lowcost for finished prints, has been greatly accountable for the steadilyincreasing army of “take-your-own-movie” fans’ (5). In 1929, Wheelerargued that filmmaking was available to ‘workers in various walks of lifeand variously situated as regards ways and means’ (v). Yet although costshave lowered, this has not meant that creating an amateur film (at least asconstructed by the literature) has been within the means of everybody. Inthe earliest magazines through to magazines from the 1980s, we seemention of investing ‘life savings’ on equipment, advice to rent a camerafor two or four days before making a serious investment, and advertise-ments for used equipment, rental equipment and 0% loans on purchases.These elements no longer feature in contemporary magazines, whichobviously reflects the fact that (once a camcorder is purchased) the costof filming, viewing and distributing are less significant compared withprevious costs of buying and processing film and purchasing a projector.Even so, contemporary magazines generally assume that readers possessup-to-date computers and have fast internet access (for editing, distribut-ing, viewing and finding information). The economic status of the contem-porary ‘amateur’ is clearly reflected in the media packs for such magazines,which state that their target audience is ABC1 males, aged 18–40; and alsoby books such as Shooting Digital Video (Fauer 2001), which directly addressesreaders as ‘skilled professionals’ in other walks of life.

As is apparent from the media packs, and from some of our earlier quo-tations, gender is another component of the construction of the amateurfilmmaker. In 2000, Beal noted that ‘national sales figures suggest thatmen are responsible for 75% of all camcorder sales’ (219). Yet althoughmen might be the main purchasers, the magazines are careful not toportray the market as male dominated. In contemporary magazines, pho-tographs of both male and female camera operators are included through-out, and featured ‘experts’ are both male and female. Zimmerman (1995)discusses the early role of women as amateur filmmakers, and the gen-dered definition of skills and technology. She points out that certain adsmade during the 1920’s actively promoted women as filmmakers, in anattempt to stress the ease, lightness and simplicity of their cameras.Furthermore, women were seen to have the right temperament, namelypatience and attention to detail, to make good filmmakers. This contrastswith the majority of the early literature which we reviewed (e.g. Hobbs1930; Reyner 1939; Bomback 1953), in which the amateur filmmakerwas presented as almost certainly male. In writing about amateur film inthe home for example, Hobbs (1930) refers to ‘daddy’s new camera’, and



his book consistently addresses the one who films, exhibits and achieves‘professional effects’ as male. This may reflect the male dominance of themarket at that time: for example, in discussing family filmmaking from the1950s, East Anglian film archivist, David Cleveland, states that ‘it wasalways dad who worked the camera, very seldom were women allowed tofilm with the family movie camera’ (Cleveland 2007: n.p.) – althoughZimmerman’s US study quotes several examples of women amateur film-makers (Zimmerman 1995). Even so, within the material we are consider-ing here, it would appear that women are only explicitly referred to when‘feminine’ qualities are being emphasised.

Changing social usesWhile the ‘home mode’ has largely dominated the discourse around amateurfilm making, many other genres are discussed in the material we have beenanalysing. As we have seen, Lescaboura (1921) focuses on ‘photoplays’,while Lovell-Burgess (1932) suggests producing religious dramas, romancesand educational films, and the Amateur Cinema League (1940) discussestheatrical movies, ‘personal’ movies and ‘special purpose’ movies (includ-ing business and ethnological films). Contemporary magazines typicallyinclude reference to an enormous variety of genres, including horror,spoofs, documentary, citizen journalism and music videos.

Growing levels of access to video technology – including, we mustassume, among individuals who do not form part of a nuclear family –might lead one to expect greater diversity in its social uses. Even so, mostof the publications we have analysed continue to assume that ‘personal’,family-oriented films are likely to dominate. In How to Make Good Movies,written in 1966, the authors assert, ‘Most [film-camera] owners are not atall interested in using their cameras for subjects other than purely per-sonal films of family and friends’ (Kodak 1966: 5). Throughout the 1970’sand the 1980’s, the ‘home mode’ continues to be identified as the centralfunction of amateur film-making. Cleave (1988), for example, provides atypical list of subjects for filming, including weddings, family holidays,sports events and children’s birthday parties. A very similar list appearswithin Squires’ Camcorder Handbook (1992); while Beal’s Complete Idiot’sGuide to Making Home Videos, published in 2000, also makes clear refer-ence to the home mode:

Many people buy camcorders for one reason: to document their children’slives as they grow up . . . Never before in human history have we been ableto record and document with such accuracy the most important events inour lives (203)

In these publications, films of the family are frequently referred to as‘records’ of the nearest and dearest (e.g. Sewell 1938; Bordwell 1962): thekey emphasis is on capturing children growing up, producing ‘a completerecord that parents will treasure in years to come’ (Davies 1951: 204).

Nevertheless, for the serious amateur, the making of such films is morethan simply a matter of neutral record-keeping. In order to create this‘accurate’ picture, according to the literature, the filmmaker must plan



carefully so as to capture ‘typical’ actions rather than random events.Furthermore, as we will discuss in the final section of this article, familyfilms are constructed as outlets for film-makers’ creativity and as alterna-tives to mainstream entertainment: as Beal (2000) states, ‘shooting homevideos can open up a world of unlimited creativity in your life’ (142).

The exhibition of films is also an important concern for the committedamateur. As early as the 1930, writers were encouraging amateurs toform film clubs to share finished projects as well as to offer advice andassistance (Hobbs 1930; Lovell-Burgess 1932). The emphasis on showinga finished product runs throughout the literature, with extensive adviceon how to create a home cinema for sharing films (including notes oninstalling dimmer switches and pelmet lights) continuing through the1980s. Alder (1951) suggests running film evenings which include showingrented films alongside home movies; while magazines from the 1980scontain numerous ads for feature films to rent interspersed with articlesabout ‘home mode’ filming. In contemporary publications, the sameemphasis is given to sharing films online, with reviews and feature articleson video sharing sites, advice on formatting for online sharing, and com-petitions featuring videos posted online. Furthermore, magazines havetheir own forums for readers to exchange advice and get assistance; URLsof wider amateur camcorder communities are commonly listed; and mag-azines include features on monthly film festivals, as well as information oncourses for amateurs. A common organisational structure for recent booksand magazines is to have three sections – create, edit and share. As thisimplies, one characteristic that distinguishes the serious amateur from theeveryday user is the desire to create finished products that can be shownto an audience beyond one’s friends and family.

Amateur aesthetics: learning from the professionalsThe relationships between amateurs, professionals and what we have called‘everyday users’ are not only apparent in the different social practices andcontexts of film and video making, but also in the products themselves.Considerations of taste and aesthetics – for example to do with issues suchas film grammar, lighting, sound and the ‘feel’ of a film – are an abidingpreoccupation in the literature we have analysed (cf. Bourdieu 1984).These considerations are most apparent in three main areas: references toprofessional filmmaking, discussions of realism, and notions of creativity.

As we have noted, becoming a serious amateur is seen to involve alearning process; and one key aspect of this entails the need to reflect onprofessional filmmaking practices. Improving one’s work involves learningand applying ‘film grammar’ and techniques (e.g. the ‘rule of thirds’, the‘180 degree rule’, continuity, camera angles, lighting, editing) as well aspaying close attention to planning and scripting. This is clearly seen assomething that cannot be learnt simply through trial and error: in thewords of one author, ‘Cinematic rules are not so much a subject for ‘learn-ing’ as for studying and understanding’ (Strausser 1937: 7).

In these publications, film grammar is often taught in a formal mannerusing diagrams, drawings and photographs or screen grabs to explain spe-cific techniques. This kind of formal study is seen to result in movies that



will be more interesting, artistic and of higher quality. For example, inLescaboura’s book, camera angles are discussed under a section entitled‘the hand of the artist’ (1921); camera distance and angle are connectedto the mood the filmmaker wants to convey (Lovell-Burgess 1932); close-ups are described as ‘more attention grabbing’ (Cleave 1988); and jumpcuts are referred to as a way to ‘enhance the story telling process’ (DigitalVideo Magazine Nov. 2005: 032). In a 2003 issue of Camcorder and DVDMovie Maker (July 2003) this even extends to a detailed semiotic analysisof the Godfather films (27–29).

Editing in particular is frequently referred to both as a downfall of poorquality home videos and an example of a technique one can learn bywatching the professionals. Croydon (1951) suggests weekly visits to thecinema in order to learn about editing by studying commercial movies.Similarly, a feature in the first edition of Camcorder User (1988) suggeststhat readers turn off the sound and watch an episode of the UK soapopera, EastEnders, counting the timing for each shot and observing transi-tions and cuts. In recent magazines, sections with titles such as‘Hollywood Inspiration’ discuss ‘tricks of the trade’ from current movies(e.g. Digital Video Techniques October 2006).

Although editing has come to the fore in recent publications, with theadvent of new digital editing software, it has consistently been identified asa defining characteristic of ‘good’ amateur filmmaking. Amateurs arerepeatedly encouraged to cut irrelevant shots and be ruthless aboutthrowing out film that does not progress the story (e.g. Croydon 1951).Again, editing is seen as a key to producing films that are more interestingfor audiences and, like commercial films, tell a story. This is reflectednot only in the chapters and feature articles on how to edit, but also incurrent advertisements, for example: ‘VideoStudio 10 Plus helps turnhum-drum raw video footage into truly compelling movie productions’(Digital Video Techniques October 2006: 002). By setting up a contrastbetween ‘raw footage’ and ‘movie production’ and describing thesecomponents as ‘hum-drum’ versus ‘truly compelling’, this advertisementmakes clear the aesthetic quality the amateur is encouraged to achievethrough editing both in terms of process (a completed production) andpurpose (to entertain).

The need for advance planning, both in order to ensure continuity andfor structuring a film narrative is another recurring theme. For example, achapter in 1951 entitled ‘Filming Baby on the Lawn’, emphasises theimportance of planning a sequence which includes a dramatic climax(Alder 1951). Likewise, Cleave (1988) provides extensive details of plan-ning and preparation for filming children’s parties, weddings and holidays.In relation to filming parties, he writes: ‘A children’s party is bound to be aboisterous affair. But as movie makers, it’s our job to try and bring orderout of chaos, and one way we can do this is to make sure our video recordhas a firm shape – in other words, a proper beginning, middle and end’(111). One of the interesting aspects here is the suggestion that the por-trayal of an event is constructed by the filmmaker: the film needs to be‘shaped’ in a way that belies the ‘chaos’ which is perhaps closer to thereality of the event.



Making it realDespite this latter emphasis on the need for narrative ‘shaping’, realism hasbeen seen as a key dimension of the preferred aesthetic of amateur filmand video making. In the early publications, film is seen as preferable tostill photography, precisely because of its ability to capture more realisticportrayals of people and events. Foretelling the advent of camcorders,Sewell wrote in 1938 ‘fully stereoscopic colour cinematography, alliedwith sound . . . [will] offer the most satisfactory method that has yetevolved of securing pictures of those persons and places that are near anddear to us’ (115). Likewise, Grosset (1961) describes the switch fromphotos to movies as follows: ‘Instead of awkward frozen gestures, people aredemanding life and action – a living record of their family and friends, sothey turn to movies’ (7). As we have discussed, this emphasis on producingaccurate records of one’s ‘nearest and dearest’ is an abiding concern.

Even so, the filmmaker is seen to play a proactive role in constructing arealistic portrayal of an event. As Cleave’s discussion of the children’sparty (cited above), filmmaking involves not just filming people and events,but carefully producing a construct which reflects a particular reality.Alder refers to ethical questions about this process: ‘Some people doubtwhether it is ethical for a family moviemaker to juggle with his lengths offilm in order to manufacture a climax at the editing stage’ (1951: 100).Yet he goes on to say that, on the contrary, editing produces a more realisticportrayal of an event: ‘what they require is, above all, truth’ (100).Describing how people react self-consciously to the camera, and thereforedo not portray themselves in a natural manner, Alder argues that editingis needed in order to capture only those moments that ‘record events in anintelligent style. All we want is a factual story’ (100). Similarly, Grosset(1961) places emphasis on capturing ‘natural and spontaneous shots’ andsuggests that editors ‘cut out the parts where [actors] hesitate, glace at thecamera, over-act or look embarrassed’ (67).

The aesthetic of capturing people in ‘natural’ poses – as opposed to self-conscious acting to the camera – is a recurrent preoccupation here.For example, Davies warns, ‘DON’T let anyone talk or look at the camera.The camera should always remain impersonal because if your subjectsconstantly look and point at us, the audience, the illusion will have beenshattered’ (1961: 204, original emphasis). More recently, in 2005 DigitalVideo magazine’s ‘quick start tips’ refer to the need to capture spontaneousand natural moments and avoid people talking directly to the camera. Theaesthetic in these discussions frames the camera and filmmaker as aninvisible, ‘fly-on-the-wall’ observer. The observer gains objectivity partlythrough capturing ‘natural’ moments in which the observed is unaware of,or at least not ‘acting up’ to, the camera. This objectivity can be obtainedthrough knowledge of the subject: Livingstone (1979) says that beinginvolved in the action gives greater insight into the subject, while Grosset(1961) suggests: ‘You may tell your actors what you want them to do, butmake sure your requests are in character and based on your knowledge ofthe family’ (43).

As we have noted, the primary purpose of amateur film is seen to be thatof entertainment. The aesthetic qualities associated with entertainment



preclude ‘hum drum’ family films, films with no dramatic climaxes orthose of poor technical or cinematic quality. As Davies (1951) writes: ‘Allyou have to do is translate everyday happenings that have given you plea-sure onto the screen with, perhaps, a slight over emphasis of the salientpoints. The hen-pecked husband theme should be good for a dozen films . . .’(235). Thus, while there is a premium placed on capturing spontaneous,natural everyday events, there is also a sense that the filmmaker needs toactively shape and construct those events as entertainment.

Constructions of creativityOne of the more elusive characteristics referred to in the literature onamateur filmmaking is ‘creativity’. Although the term is never discussedor defined in any depth, filmmaking is repeatedly referred to as an artisticor creative endeavour. It is not simply about keeping a record of family life,but rather a form of art, designed to be viewed and appreciated by others.Thus, Wheeler (1929) emphasises the importance of considering compositionand lighting when filming, describing the filmmaker as ‘the creative artistin colour’, mentally viewing and planning camera angles, distances andcomposition. Alder more explicitly states ‘movie making is an art’, althoughhe makes it clear that the purpose of the artistic endeavour is functional,stating ‘art for art’s sake can go hang’ (1951: 100). Nevertheless, thisartistry is not necessarily amenable to systematic instruction. The artisticquality of filmmaking for Alder is ‘not so much knowledge as an attitude,a kind of awareness of the screen. It is extremely difficult to teach an atti-tude’ (109). Similarly, Bomback (1953) distinguishes between technicalknowledge which can be taught and artistry which can only be modelled:‘we can explain the technicalities but we cannot teach the artistic presen-tation of a story. We can merely point the way’ (forward).

The role of filmmaking as a creative personal outlet is referred to acrossthe literature, and Beal (2000) makes the connection to other forms ofcultural production, stating that ‘creative videography has its roots increative writing’ (91). As we have seen, in some cases the creative aes-thetic of amateur filmmaking is contrasted with the formulaic approach ofcommercial cinema or television, which is believed to give rise to passiveconsumption. This is particularly apparent in more recent publications,where there is a familiar rhetoric of condemnation of ‘couch potatoes’ andthe ‘boob tube’:

The end-product may not be a masterpiece, but [the amateur film-maker]can say: ‘It’s mine. I made it. A few months ago, it didn’t exist’. This is thejoy of creativity . . . It’s something inborn in most of us but today’s push-button way of life inhibits it. We are conditioned to be observers rather thanparticipators, slumping in front of the telly, while the world goes by on thelittle screen.

(Movie Maker Magazine 1982: 723)

Likewise, Beal’s (2000) injunction to amateur video makers to ‘take backthe tube’ (quoted above) is echoed in Barrett’s description of the power ofdigital video: ‘Thanks to DV we’re now starting to see some really creative



and personal films that can provide a welcome alternative to the bland for-mulaic stuff that comes out of Hollywood’ (Camcorder and DVD Moviemaker2003: 15). By contrast with some of the arguments noted above, theemphasis here is not on learning from the professionals, but rather onchallenging and going beyond them.

As we have implied, much of this literature urges amateur film-makersto conform to a relatively conservative, or at least ‘classical’ form of cine-matic realism, characterised (for example) by conventional continuityediting and the ‘invisible camera’. The rapid development of technology –perhaps particularly in the area of editing – makes it easier to achieve this;although it may also be making it possible to develop an aesthetic stylethat goes beyond it.

ConclusionWe began this article by noting some of the ways in which growing accessto moving image technology is seen to be blurring or breaking down theboundaries between ‘amateurs’ and ‘professionals’. Countering this argu-ment is the claim that, far from being a democratising force, video tech-nology has actually been recuperated within the ‘home mode’, and (morebroadly) within the private sphere. While we are certainly sceptical ofclaims about the revolutionary impact of technology, we have also sug-gested that the ‘home mode’ may not in practice be quite as naïve andlimited as critics suggest – and that it is at least deserving of more detailedempirical investigation.

On the basis of the evidence presented here, we cannot make signifi-cant claims about the actual practice of film and video making. Rather,our attention has focused on the ways in which it is defined and con-structed within publications targeted at the amateur user. In line withBourdieu’s theory of ‘fields’, we have argued that the cultural field ofamateur film and video making is characterised by ongoing struggles forpower, legitimisation and control (Bourdieu 1993). Yet the material wehave analysed does not tell a simple story. There are several unresolvedtensions and contradictions – for example, between an emphasis on theaccessibility of the technology and the need to expend time and effort onlearning; between the insistence on realism and spontaneity and theemphasis on the creative intervention of the film-maker; and between theneed to learn from the professionals and the call to create alternatives tomainstream media.

One of the abiding imperatives in the publications we have reviewed isthe need to distinguish between the serious or committed amateur and themore casual everyday user. The serious amateur is defined to some extentin terms of social class and gender, but also through the ‘othering’ of thenaïve everyday user, who is seen to remain forever trapped within theunreconstructed ‘home mode’. In Bourdieu’s terms, the serious amateur isan autodidact, who dedicates time and effort in pursuit of their learningand creative activity. Bourdieu (1990) would almost certainly have cate-gorised amateur video production, like amateur photography, as a ‘middle-brow’ activity – although we doubt that the value systems he uses inmapping out the cultural field are quite as clear-cut today as they were in



France in the 1960s and 1970s. Even so, our analysis suggests that theidentity of the serious amateur has historically been defined in relation toa particular hierarchical system of taste, and an aesthetic based on partic-ular notions of cinematic realism.

This portrait of the field complicates several of the generalisations thatrecur throughout the popular debates with which we began. On the onehand, it challenges a simple binary opposition between amateur and pro-fessional; and it disputes the notion that technology in and of itself can actas a force of empowerment, for example by virtue of its simplicity andaccessibility. On the other hand, it questions the monolithic constructionof the ‘home mode’ – at least in its contemporary form – as an essentiallynaïve practice, or indeed as inevitably conservative (either aesthetically orideologically). Our reading of the contemporary publications wouldsuggest that, while distinctions between professionals and amateurs (andbetween various ‘grades’ of amateurs) undoubtedly remain, they arebecoming more complicated and less settled; and that the increasing diver-sity of amateur video production is making life more difficult for those whowould seek to discipline or regulate it.

ReferencesAlder, R. (1951), Family Movies Outdoors, in R.H. Bomback (ed.), (1953) Handbook

of Amateur Cinematography, London: Fountain Press, pp. 100–144.

Amateur Cinema League (1940), A Guide to Making Better Movies, New York:Amateur Cinema League.

Baum, G. (1991), ‘Private Eyes’ Los Angeles Times. July 25.

Beal, S. (2000), The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Making Home Videos, Indianapolis:Macmillan.

Bomback, R.H. (ed.) (1953), Handbook of Amateur Cinematography, London: FountainPress.

Bordwell, M. (1962), Amateur Cinematography, London: Oldbourne Book Co.

Broderick, P. (1964), Amateur Film Making, London: Cox and Wyman.

——— (1984), Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste, London:Routledge.

——— (1990), Photography: A Middle-Brow Art, Cambridge: Polity.

——— (1993), Outline of a Theory of Practice, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Cameron, J.R. (1928), Amateur Movie Craft, London, New York: Cameron Publishing.

Chalfen, R. (1987), Snapshot Versions of Life, Bowling Green, Ohio: Bowling GreenState University Popular Press.

Cleave, A. (1988), The ABC of Video Movies: Getting the Best from Your Camcorder,Manchester, New Hampshire: Morgan Press.

Cleveland, D. (no date), ‘Filming the Family’ from ‘The Way We Were: 100 Years ofFamily Film’. East Anglian Film Archive.http://www2.angliatv.com/thewaywewere/filmingthefamily.shtml (Accessed29 March 2007).

Croydon, J. (1951), ‘Editing and Titling’, in R.H. Bomback (ed.), Handbook ofAmateur Cinematography, London: Fountain Press, pp. 245–280.

Davies, D. (1951), ‘Filming Indoors’, in R.H. Bomback (ed.), Handbook of AmateurCinematography, London: Fountain Press, pp. 196–238.



Fauer, J. (2001), Shooting digital video: DVCAM, Mini DV and DVCPRO, Oxford: FocalPress.

Grosset, P. (1961), 8mm Movie Making for Pleasure, London: Fountain Press.

Hobbs, E. (1930), Cinematography for Amateurs: a simple guide to Motion Picturetaking and showing, London: Cassell.

Katelle, A.D. (2000), Home Movies: A history of the American industry: 1897–1979,New York: Rochester.

Kodak (1966), How to Make Good Home Movies, New York: Kodak Publications.

Lescaboura, A. (1921), The Cinema Handbook, New York: Munn and Co.

Lovell-Burgess, M. (1932), The Amateur Cine-Movement: A Popular Account of theAmateur Film Movement in Great Britain, London: Marston.

Moran, J. (2002), There’s No Place Like Home Video, Minneapolis: University ofMinnesota.

Ofcom (2006), Media Literacy Audit: Report on adult media literacy.http://www.ofcom.org.uk/advice/media_literacy/medlitpub/medlitpubrss/medialit_audit/medialit_audit.pdf#xml=http://search.atomz.com/search/pdfhelper.tk?sp-0=13,100000, 0 (Accessed 29 March 2007)

Ouellette, L. (1995), ‘Camcorder Dos and Don’ts: Popular Discourses on AmateurVideo and Participatory Television’, in The Velvet Light Trap, No. 36, Fall: 33–44.

Pareles, J. (2006), ‘2006: Brought to You by You’, New York Times 10 December.http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/10/arts/music/10pare.html?ex=1323406800&en=60a06d6b15075f33&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss (Accessed 29March 2007)

Reyner, J.H. (1939), Cinematography for Amateurs (3rd edn.), London: Chapmanand Hall.

Sewell, G. (1938), Amateur Film Making, London: Blackie and Son Ltd.

Sony Electronics (2007), ‘Why choose Sony Handcam® camcorders?’http://www.sonystyle.com/is-bin/INTERSHOP.enfinity/eCS/Store/en/-/USD/SY_ViewStatic-Start?page=static%2farticles%2fhandycamguide%2eisml)(Accessed 29 March 2007).

Squires, M. (1992), The Camcorder Handbook, London: Headline Book Publishing.

Strausser, A. (1937), Amateur Movies and How to Make Them, London: Edward Evans.

Wheeler, O. (1929), Amateur Cinematography, London: Pitman Press.

Zimmerman, P. (1995), Reel Families: Social History of Amateur Film, Indianapolis:Indiana University Press.

Referenced MagazinesCamcorder and DVD Moviemaker, May 2003.

Camcorder User, Spring 1988.

Digital Video Magazine, Nov. 2005.

Digital Video Magazine, Nov. 2006.

Digital Video Magazine, March 2007.

Digital Video Techniques, October 2006.

Movie Maker Magazine, Nov. 1978.

Movie Maker Magazine, Dec. 1982.

Video Maker, June 1986.

What Digital Camcorder, April 2005.



What Digital Camcorder, Nov. 2005.

What Digital Camcorder, Dec. 2005.

What Digital Camcorder, Oct. 2005.

Which Digital Camera, November 2005.

Suggested citationBuckingham, D., Pini, M., & Willett, R. (2007), ‘“Take back the tube!”: The discur-

sive construction of amateur film and video making’, Journal of Media Practice8: 2, pp. 183–201, doi: 10.1386/jmpr.8.2.183/1

Contributor detailsDavid Buckingham is Professor of Education at the Institute of Education, LondonUniversity, where he directs the Centre for the Study of Children, Youth and Media(www.childrenyouthandmediacentre.co.uk). His research focuses on children andyoung people’s interactions with electronic media, and on media education. Hismost recent books are Beyond Technology: Children’s Learning in the Age of DigitalCulture (Polity, 2007) and Global Children, Global Media; Migration, Media and Child-hood (with Liesbeth de Block, Palgrave, Autumn 2007). Contact: DavidBuckingham, Professor of Education, Institute of Education, University of London,London Knowledge Lab, 23-29 Emerald Street, London WC1N 3QS, UK.E-mail: [email protected]

Maria Pini is currently based at the Centre for the Study of Children, Youth andMedia at the Institute of Education, University of London where she is a parttime research officer on the ‘Camcorder Cultures: Media Technologies andEveryday Creativity’ project. Previously, Maria was a lecturer in the Media andCommunications department at Goldsmiths College, London. She has publishedextensively on British club cultures and femininity and during a postdoctoralresearch period spent at the University of Western Sydney, she was a researchofficer on a project exploring video diaries as a social scientific research methodol-ogy. Contact: Maria Pini , Research Officer, Institute of Education, University ofLondon, London Knowledge Lab, 23-29 Emerald Street, London WC1N 3QS, UK.E-mail: [email protected]

Rebekah Willett is a lecturer at the Institute of Education, University of London,where she teaches on the MA in Media, Culture and Communication. She is also aresearcher at the Centre for the Study of Children, Youth and Media where she hasconducted various projects on children’s media cultures. Her research interestsinclude gender, digital technologies, literacy and learning. She has recently pub-lished articles on technology, pedagogy and digital production; girls’ consumptionof fashion; and gender positioning in children’s talk. Contact: Rebekah Willett,Lecturer in Education, Institute of Education, University of London, LondonKnowledge Lab, 23-29 Emerald Street, London WC1N 3QS, UK.E-mail: [email protected]

