Ash Amin , Nigel Trift
The intelligibility of
the everyday city
Published in the journal Logos , number 3, 2002
Introduction
Below we explore what can be
considered knowledge about the city. We
ask ourselves how one can theorize about
the modern city without losing sight of its
incredible diversity and vitality, and
taking into account the signs of the
practices prevailing in the city. We
deliberately omit well-known works in our
analysis, since we do not believe that the
diversity of the dynamics of a city allows
us to theorize about it in terms of driving
structures. We turn to another urbanism,
which sees the city as a place of mobility,
as flow and daily practices, and which
distinguishes cities by their recurring
phenomenological patterns. Following
Bruno Latour and Emilie Erman - we
mean their wonderful photo album of
modern Paris - such a view requires
looking at the city from the perspective of
an “oligopticon” 1, from above, below and
between the city’s surfaces.
We will outline the central
metaphors of this new urbanism of
everyday life. We see three such
metaphors, clarifying the meaning of
transitivity, daily rhythms and impacts of
imprints for the organization and
functioning of urban life. ‘These
metaphors are placed, respectively, in the
tradition of flanery, in rhythm and in the
imprints of the city. Although widely
recognized, we argue that this urbanismarchive
exaggerates the importance of the city as
a space for open flow, human interaction,
and immediate reflexivity. Here we will try
to approach knowledge about the city
from a different standpoint - from the
point of view of the institutional,
transhuman and distant nature of urban
life.
New urbanism in context
Prominent American urban
theorists at the beginning of the
twentieth century - Patrick Geddes, Lewis
Mumford and Louis Wirth - sought to
generalize knowledge about the city in
different historical eras as an integral
system. They viewed the city as an
organism. A certain organic integrity was
guessed behind the confusion, noise,
bustle and disorder of city life. The city
seemed to be a spatially coherent entity
that embodied a special way of life (rapid,
secular, anonymous) with a distinct
spatial and social division of labor within
it, with a specific relationship to the
village, the country as a whole and to the
“outside world”, as well as evolutionary
linearity (civilization and progress).
These classics sought to theorize the city
as a sociospatial system with its own
internal dynamics. For example, Mumford
saw the point in developing a typology of
cities: Tyranopol
s with its parasitism and
gangster dictators, Megapolis with its
greed, alienation and barbarism, and
Necropolis with its looting and
primitiveness following war, hunger and
disease. The way Mumford interprets each
type as an organic system is amazing.
But, regardless of whether cities in
different eras can be viewed from this
point of view, modern cities are definitely
not internally coherent systems. Theboundaries of the city have become too
transparent and extensible (both
geographically and socially) to theorize as
a whole. The modem city has no end, it
has no center, no clearly fixed parts.
Rather, it is a fusion of often mismatched
processes and social heterogeneity, a
place of interconnection between near
and far, a sequence of rhythms; it always
spreads in new directions. It is this
characteristic of the city that needs to be
grasped and_— explained, _without
succumbing to the temptation to reduce
the diversity of urban phenomena to any
essence or systemic integrity.
Over the past fifteen years, urban
theory has come a long way towards
recognizing the diversity and plurality of
urban life. Most prominent contemporary
urbanists, including Manuel Castells,
David Harvey, Saskia Sassen, Edward
Soge, Richard Sennett, Mike Davis, and
Michael Dia, acknowledge the inadequacy
of a one-dimensional view of the city.
They note the imposition of productive
activity on new types of competent
activity, on the co-presence of different
classes, social groups, nationalities and
cultures, on the striking contrast between
wealth and luxury on the one hand and
extreme poverty on the other, on the
multiplicity of temporal and spatial
parameters of various ways. the
acqui
the same time, it would be quite fair to
ion of livelihood in the city. But at
note that, capturing all the complexity of
city life,
There is, however, another
tradition that stubbornly avoids such
generalizations, trying to capture such an
important banality of everyday life in the
city. Everyday life has many dimensions.
In Henri Lefebvre, for example, it consistsof “daily life,” defined as repeated
material and human practices, of
“everyday life” as an existential or
state, and of “everyday
life” which is something like an
phenomenologic
immanent life force that permeates
everything and everything, “the only and
unlimited time-space for“ life ””
(Seigworth 2000: 246), flowing in time and
space. How does the city manifest itself in
everyday life? - this question occupied, for
example, surrealists, and later -
situationists, who tried to understand this
through unconventional city guides and
maps, manifestos and reflections (Sadler
1998). This also marks the meditations of
Walter Benjamin, wandering in the depths
of various cities, and his study of mass
consumerism in cities as a new way of life.
We find the same motive in Michel de
Certeau’s (1992) work on how the banality
- “overwhelming commonality” (p. 5) -
“becomes established in our habits” (p. 5)
as “the grammar of everyday actions”
(Gardiner 2000 : 174).
At the heart of this urbanism of
everyday life lies the feeling of the need to
grasp phenomenality, which cannot be
cognized in theory or in consciousness
alone. In part, this feeling comes from the
understanding of everyday life as an
immanent force, as “an excess of energy
that comes neither from the body, nor
from the world separately, but from the
banal movements of a pure process”
(Seigworth 2000: 240). How can we grasp
this ontology of “process in excess”? As
Sigworth believes, “in order to look
‘beyond phenomena’, the philosophy of
everyday life must focus its attention on
‘Life’, on its immediacy ... on life with all
its viscous and relaxed human / non-
human, inorganic / ethereal, phenomenal/ epiphenomenal and banal / saturated
everyday ”(2000: 246). The urbanism of
everyday life must penetrate the mixture
of flesh and stone, human and non-
human, motionless and fluid, emotions
and actions. But which of this should be
noted and which should not? And then,
you need to know the city, inaccessible to
consciousness, daring to invade the field
of poetic revelations and sensual
intimacy. But such a task is also not
without problems. How can we be sure
that these areas will reveal to us the
virtuality of the city? How can we avoid
completely useless efforts? that these
areas will reveal to us the virtuality of the
city? How can we avoid completely useless
efforts? that these areas will reveal to us
the virtuality of the city? How can we
avoid completely useless efforts?
One answer to these questions is
the use of metaphors to capture current
processes. Later in this chapter, we look at
three powerful metaphors that are
traditional in everyday urbanism. The first
is a metaphor for transitivity , which marks
the spatial and temporal openness of a
city. The second metaphor depicts the city
as a place where diverse rhythms converge
, gradually engraved in daily contacts and
numerous experiences of time and space.
The third metaphor refers to the city as
footprints: traces of the past, daily traces
of movement along and across the city, as
well as connections beyond its borders.
Flanner and transitivity
Walter Benjamin's speculative
philosophy “in its most powerful aspects
does not seek truth in completeness, but
in neglected details and subtle nuances”
(Caygill 1998: 152). And this is most of all
manifested in the studies of the cities inwhich he wandered - Paris, Naples,
Marseille, Berlin and Moscow. Benjamin
used the concept of transitivity to
describe the city as a place for
improvisation and confusion, which is
possible due to the fact that the city is
permeated through the past and is also
subject to various influences of space.
This notion went from hand to
hand in 1924 from a flaneur’s account of
Naples; here it is quite obvious that
Benjamin was struck by the theatricality
of the city, its passion for improvisation,
its irony. Naples flaunts its transitivity
when a priest, publicly ranting about
unseemly deeds, can stop to bless the
wedding procession; when it turns out
that Baedeker's guide can do nothing to
help in the search for architectural sites or
traces of the city "bottom"; when scenes
are played out in a crowded square, where
a noble gentleman bargains with an
overweight lady for the reward he wants
to receive for raising the fan she has
dropped. “Porosity is an ineradicable law
of urban life that manifests itself in
everything” - in how “buildings and
actions interpenetrate in courtyards,
arcades and staircases, ... to become the
theater of new, unforeseen constellations.
There is no stamp of certainty *(Benjamin
1997: 171, 169).
Transitivity / porosity is what
allows the city to constantly shape and
change its appearance. By highlighting
this feature in a number of street
improvisations in Naples, Benjamin
makes it quite clear that this also applies
to other cities. Using the example of
Moscow in the 1920s, he examines the
transitivity of the new socialism, based on.
the co-presence of the state bureaucratic
machine and the tacit improvisations ofindividuals engaged in informal trade and
exchange. The transitivity of the city
manifests itself in the confrontation
between the new — monumental
architecture and the pile-up of tents and
boxes placed on the sidewalks by
thousands of street vendors selling
whatever they want. Transitivity in both
cities has different implications, but in
both cases the concept captures the city as
a day-to-day process.
By what means can transitivity be
captured? To begin with, Michael
Sheringham argues that the “hidden
principle of variability” that drives urban
life also requires ‘a corresponding
movement on the part of the observer.”
Traditional means - maps, descriptions,
layouts, highlighting the essential - are of
little use. It is necessary to get used to the
reflective passer-by, the flaneur, who,
plunging into a walk around the city
through sensations, emotions and
perceptions, enters into "two-way contact
between the city and consciousness.” As a
result of this contact, we receive
“knowledge inseparable from this process
of interaction” (1996: 104, 111). So,
Sheringham notes that for André Breton,
knowledge of the city depended on an
attitude towards lyrical anticipation and
openness, expressed in a mixture of the
poetic and the factual. For Benjamin, on
the other hand, his autobiograp
al
wanderer strives for
purposeful activity gives. way to
phantasmagorias. On his journey through
idleness,” in which
Marcel, Benjamin helped himself with
moderate consumption of hashish to slow
the flow of the observed and see it in a
different way. In contrast, the Naples tale
focuses on the Berliner’s enthusiastic
experience of an incredibly theatricalMediterranean city, while in Paris he
relies on balanced reasoning about arcade
architecture. In the same way, Jacques
Reda in the 1890s saw Paris through the
prism of allegory, outlining the path along
the associative connections that arose
during the journey. to slow down the flow
of the observed and see it differently. In
contrast, the Naples tale focuses on the
Berliner’s enthusiastic experience of an
incredibly theatrical Mediterranean city,
while in Paris he relies on balanced
reasoning about arcade architecture. In
the same way, Jacques Reda in the 1890s
saw Paris through the prism of allegory,
outlining the path along the associative
connections that arose during the journey.
to slow down the flow of the observed and
see it differently. In contrast, the Naples
tale focuses on the Berliner's enthusiastic
experience of an incredibly theatrical
Mediterranean city, while in Paris he
relies on balanced reasoning about arcade
architecture. In the same way, Jacques
Reda in the 1890s saw Paris through the
prism of allegory, outlining the path along
the associative connections that arose
during the journey.
Modern urbanism has revived the
tradition of flannere viewing the city from
close, street, distance. Here again we are
bumped into the idea that the city as a
“complex experience being experienced”
(Chambers 1994) requires alternative
descriptions and maps based on
wanderings. A remarkable example of this
work is the study by Rachel Lichtenstein
and Ian Sinclair (1999), in which they
literally traced the life and movements of
the Jewish scholar and recluse David
Rodinsky in order to provide a guide to
the traces and places of this East
Londoner in the early 1960s. This is the“psychogeography” of alien spaces,
individual monuments, small towns and
Jewish settlements, where London
appears as a biographically marked city.
We can take a look at an excerpt of this
text - Sinclair's introduction to the guide -
in Box 1.1.
Box 1.1 Rodinsky as a
psychogeographer
Rodinsky was an artist in the
tradition of Tom Phillips or Surrealists, he
rediscovered objects. He made maps of
London in accordance with his idea of
what it should be, as if he were describing
this city for the first time. These cards
were hints rather than definite
statements. If a page [of a London guide]
caught his attention, he wrote all its
margins in red. And other areas - Anfield,
Stanmore, Willesden, Chingford, Hendon,
Pewley, Crystal Peles, Sabiton, Tooting
Beck, Wimbledon, Richmond, Eltham,
Peckham Rye - were of no interest to him,
he skipped them. He was a taxonomist,
distributing a huge amount of information
into categories that attracted his
attention - prisons, _almshouses,
cemeteries, orphanages, hospitals. These
notes and became a_ projected
autobiography, Dickens's tale of
desolation, poverty and prison life. This is
how Rodinsky sees the world: a dense
forest of ignorance with its dark plac
Accumulations of suffering, longing for
the warmth of his red hand. His
classification system was built around
selected buildings, which were colonies of
the doomed, institutions with strictly
defined rules of behavior, gulags of the
disappeared
What was his system? If there was
no red carpet leading to the highlighted
buildings, did this mean that heconsidered them important objects, but
did not visit them? What did the lines that
traced the intricate routes mean - travel
by bus or on foot? The Arsenal soccer field
is circled but no longer marked. And along
the rue Meir there is a red carpet that
ends at the Clapham Ponds. Was
Thistluate Street commemorated in honor
of Harold Pinter (who lived there as a
young man)? Does this mean some kind of
connection, is it a relationship, between
Pinter and Rodinsky? ..
In the suburbs, Rodinsky focuses
on “Jewish hospitals” and “Jewish
cemeteries”, as if prescribing his future,
anticipating the roads by which he will be
carried away from Prinslet Street.
... These were the places that could
be used to compose a story about a past
life: Hineage Street (the synagogue where
Rodinsky was last seen visiting Kiddush),
the tower on Fieldgate Street, Cheshire
Street, Hawksmoor Church, Brady Street
cemetery. Islets where time was held in
memory vessels.
"I finally realized that
the only way to comprehend
the maps made by Rodinsky is
to follow his red lines...”“Theorist” is a gifted pondering
passer-by, deliberately lost in the
everyday urban confusion and rhythms.
This passer-by is endowed with both
poetic sensibility and poetic science,
which is almost impossible to separate
from the methodology of city research.
Benjamin, for example, did much more
than simply absorb the transitivity of
Naples, Moscow and Marseille. He was not
a naive and impressionable dilettante. On
the contrary, he was armed with a
transcendental speculative philosophy
that allowed him to select, order, and
interpret his sensory experience of the
city. These were reflexive wanderings,
implying a special theory of urban life,
requiring the disclosure of the smallest
processes taking place in the city.
Some researchers believe that it is
the flaneur’s sensitivity that connects the
space, language and subjectivity that are
necessary to “read” the city. Such
intellectual wanderings should not
romanticize the city, but portray the
diversity of street life, unexpected
rebuttals of stereotypes. An illustrative
description of New York by Jerome Cherin
(1987):
If you want to discover
New York, go to the dunes:
visit these caves in the South
Bronx, where breakdancing
begins as a ritual war between
warring gangs of teenagers. Or
take a stroll down the
“unenhanced” Ninth Avenue,
where you still feel an
electrified neighborhood with
some kind of anarchy that
should be felt on the street.
Young people and old peoplemix, quarrel, flirt ... Or go to
Brighton Beach, where Russian
Jews settled there, dressed in
American clothes of the 50s,
drink their borscht. See mafi
country in Bath Beach, where
young thugs stand outside
restaurants in their silkiest
shirts. Take a walk on the East
Side, where Chinese, Latinos
and elderly Jews are dumped
into the streets and parks as if
from the same little room
(Quoted in Marback, Bruch and
Eicher 1998: 80).
There can be no doubt that this
kind of flanery can reveal many of the
city’s hidden secrets, But the secrets being
revealed are special secrets, and from
special parts of the city. They do not give
“authenticity” to the city, not least
because these descriptions are made from
certain subjective positions. For example,
flaneering has never been gender
indifferent. The descriptions provided
were mostly masculine, often burdened
with sensual connotations (crowds,
streets, salons, buildings were perceived
as sexually arousing, or analogies were
often drawn to the female body and
femininity). And women were often
stereotyped with selective gaze, as Angela
Macrobie puts it:
By displacing women
through various kinds of
violence into the household,
into the world of shopping,
into the inner world of the
sexual body, femininity and
motherhood, modernity was
able to solemnly appear in the
public sphere - in the space of