Showing posts with label nick papadimitriou. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nick papadimitriou. Show all posts

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

The Psychogeography Franchise

The British psychogeographer and writer Iain Sinclair is known for highlighting the problems of psychogeography, at one time calling it "psychotic" geography and describing it as a type of "franchise". (Fortean Times 2002) Historically it has often been considered to be the pursuit of middle-aged men, fortunate enough to have the luxury of time and money, who wander through urban space formulating a commentary on it, as was the case with the flaneur. However, in contemporary times, and perhaps in part because it has become a method and practice for art, there are many more women who partake in it and could perhaps classify themselves as psychogeographers. Probably the most high profile female psychogeographer in recent history is the Situationist Michèle Bernstein.

British psychogeography, in particular, has been criticised for being nostalgic, with Sinclair being cited as one of the main proponents of an approach where "loss and redemption are explored and negotiated". (Bonnett 2009: 54) Alistair Bonnett's recent article 'The Dilemmas of Radical Nostalgia in British Psychogeography' explores these notions alongside a consideration that this strand often sits next to a radical activist lineage of psychogeography in Britain.

For the purposes of my own project I mostly use the definition of psychogeography as it is set out by the Situationists. Psychogeography is: “The study of the specific effects of the geographical environment, consciously organized or not, on the emotions and behavior of individuals.” (Situationist International 1996: 69) However, I think it is pertinent to note that another form of psychogeography was given the same name by Howard F. Stein. In his book Developmental Time, Cultural Space: Studies in Psychogeography (1987) Stein does not see psychogeography as a nebulous or cryptic response to space at all, but something that is ever-present in the individual. Approaching it from a psychoanalytical angle, Stein sees psychogeography as referring to "people's shared psychological representation or 'map' of the natural and social world". (1987: 3) In his edited text with William G. Niederland Maps from the Mind: Readings in Psychogeography (1989) it is described thus:
Psychogeography is the study of how issues, experiences, and processes that result from growing up in a male or female body [...] become symbolized and played out in the wider social and natural worlds, which serve as 'screens' for these inner dramas. (1989: xvii)

Psychogeography for Stein and Niederland takes a Freudian look at space, in considering the inner life of the individual and, therefore, their gender. This form of psychogeographic study aims to look at what connects someone to place and how geography makes a person who they are. It is possible that this form of psychogeography pre-dates that of the Situationists, as the introduction to Maps from the Mind states that Niederland developed it in the 1950s when looking at river symbolism. (1989: xxix) Joel Greenberg uses Niederland's definition of psychogeography in his oedipally named essay 'Psychogeography: A Freudian Look at the Search for Mother Earth...or, How I loved My Mother, Hated My Father and Discovered America' (1978) which looks at exploration and cartography. Greenberg looks at "the unconscious libidinal components linked to geographical pursuits", why the ego projects imagery onto the outside world and how geography appears in representative form. (1978: 90) This type of psychogeography is not the direction I take. I include it here to show the 'grey areas' in the different types of psychogeography. Also because the work of Niederland and Stein has authority in its own field in academia, and to not acknowledge it would be to provide an incomplete picture of what psychogeography is considered to be.

Merlin Coverley talks about how psychogeography resists definitions, and while this could be considered its downfall, it could also be part of its enduring nature: it can be picked up like a flexible tool and re-shaped to suit the individual practitioner. The downside of it is that practically anyone on a causal stroll through town could describe themselves as a psychogeographer, and while this is not really a problem for many individuals involved in this field, it is another criticism levelled at it. In order for psychogeography not to be an elitist pursuit, I prefer to be generous in the use of the term. However, one urban walk does not a psychogeographer make and I would also attach the premise that the walk needs to have certain qualities for it to be of a psychogeographic nature, for example, it needs to be an intentional act that elicits an aesthetic response of some sort in its critique of that space. Coverley describes it as "cutting across established routes and exploring those marginal and forgotten areas often overlooked by the city's inhabitants" (2006: 12) and I think this would be a good way of describing what many contemporary psychogeographers do, including the Situationists (it is also true of the psychogeography I carry out, on my own and with Leeds Psychogeography Group). It would be at least partly correct to say psychogeographers "seek to reveal the true nature that lies beneath the flux of the every day" (Coverley 2006: 13); however, this sentiment is problematic, as it implies that there is a truth underlying postmodern space that can be revealed, and this is not the case; there is no single truth present under the surface, nevertheless, the act itself does allow one to reveal social histories which might otherwise remain hidden.

Not only are there different definitions of psychogeography, some of which have been discussed, but there are alternative names for different forms of psychogeography, and some of the differences are quite subtle. Papadimitriou calls his own type of urban walking "deep topography":
What is deep topography? It's not a programme. It's an acknowledgement of the magnitude of response to landscape. Something that I don't see in most accounts that I read of landscape. I find there's two ways that descriptions of landscape go. One of them puts the person who is experiencing at the centre; and it always seems a little narcissistic to me: 'I respond to this', 'I spotted that'. It's more about them than about the landscape. And the other way it goes, it tends to be greened or touristed, one of the two. So there's either an attempt to place the landscape within the framework of mainstream green philosophy, or else it goes the other way, which is it just becomes touristic: 'The field are really nice in April'. That sort of thing. (Papadimitriou 2009)
The London Perambulator is predominantly about Papadimitriou and his deep topography. There is also a well known form of walking known as mythogeography, subscribed to by a number of artists, writers and academics who are part of a fluid collective. On the Mythogeography website there is a page which differentiates mythogeography from psychogeography. It says:
In the UK the concept of psychogeography was detached from activist meaning and reconfigured as a literary practice in the work of writers like Iain Sinclair and also gathered some occult trappings during this time from Sinclair, Peter Ackroyd and others.
Mythogeography describes a way of thinking about and visiting places where multiple meanings have been squeezed into a single and restricted meaning (for example, heritage, tourist or leisure sites tend to be presented as just that, when they may also have been homes, jam factories, battlegrounds, lovers' lanes, farms, cemeteries and madhouses). Mythogeography emphasises the multiple nature of places and suggests multiple ways of celebrating, expressing and weaving those places and their multiple meanings.
Mythogeography is influenced by, and draws on, psychogeography – seeking to reconnect with some of its original political edge as well as with its more recent additions. (Mythogeography 2011)
This definition of mythogeography attempts to return to the more activist form of psychogeography proposed by the Situationists, while at the same time allowing for multiple meanings to reveal themselves through those spaces.

Psychogeophysics analyses the effects of geography and place on the individual. Walking is one of the means for carrying out this semi-scientific-based research. Mostly examining the city from an ecological perspective, it uses measuring and mapping devices when creating 'situations'.

Because of the historic problems attached to the term psychogeography, and in order to differentiate my own style of psychogeography from the many other existing forms, I have formulated my own term: schizocartography.

I have developed schizocartography from Félix Guattari's terms “schizoanalysis” and "schizoanalytic cartography". While the term “schizoanalysis” is derived from “schizophrenia” (as discussed in depth in the Capitalism and Schizophrenia collaborative series of Guattari and Gilles Deleuze), it does not promote mental illness; rather, “schizo” is used as a way of offering up the possibility of multiple voices, and alternative world-views, amongst other factors. Schizocartography enables alternative existential modes for individuals in order to challenge dominant representations and power structures. This provides an opportunity for multiple ways of operating in space and reading the environment; it critiques the conventional ways of viewing, interpreting and mapping space. This is my definition of 'schizocartography':
Schizocartography offers a method of cartography that both questions dominant power structures while at the same time enabling subjective voices to appear from underlying postmodern topography. Schizocartography is at once the process and output of a psychogeography of particular spaces that have been co-opted by various capitalist-oriented operations, routines or procedures. It attempts to reveal the aesthetic and ideological contradictions that appear in urban space while simultaneously reclaiming the subjectivity of individuals by enabling new modes of creative expression. Schizocartography challenges anti-production, the homogenizing character of overriding forms that work towards silencing heterogeneous voices.

Bibliography:

Bonnett, Alistair. 'The Dilemmas of Radical Nostalgia in British Psychogeography', Theory, Culture and Society, 26, 1 (2009), 45-70.
Coverley, Merlin. 2006. Psychogeography (Harpenden: Pocket Essentials).
Greenberg, Joel. 'Psychogeography: A Freudian Look at the Search for Mother Earth...or, How I loved My Mother, Hated My Father and Discovered America', Science News, 113, 6 (1978), 90-91.
Mythogeography, 'Not Psychogeography', Mythogeography, (2011), [accessed 08 July 2011]
Sinclair, Iain, 'City Brain: A Meeting With the Pioneer Psychogeographer', Fortean Times, (2002), [accessed 08 July 2011]
Situationist International. 1996. Theory of the Dérive and Other Situationist Writings on the City, ed. by Libero Andreotti and Xavier Costa (Barcelona: Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona).
Stein, Howard F. 1987. Developmental Time, Cultural Space: Studies in Psychogeography (Norman and London: University of Oklahoma Press).
Stein, Howard F. and William G. Niederland. 1989. 'Editors' Introduction', Maps from the Mind: Readings in Psychogeography, ed. by Howard F. Stein and William G. Niederland (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press) pp. xvii-xxix.

Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Kirkstall Valley Subdub or The Prozac Walk

Sunday May 20th 2010. I set off from home with the intention of checking out the Kirkstall electricity sub-station (Leeds), which I had first stumbled upon in the summer of 2008.

National Grid Sub-stations

Redcote Lane
The entrance to Redcote Lane is from Kirkstall Road. It is a strange space (part hinterland, part heterotopia) with a number of leisure pursuits represented. These are juxtaposed with the preservation area that runs by the river and this large sub-station which dominates the end of Redcote Lane. As you enter Redcote Lane you can hear the cracking-crunching sound emanating from the recycling centre on the right. You then walk over a really interesting green iron(?) bridge that crosses the river Aire:



Past the bridge is a 'Fitness First' leisure centre and opposite is a small fenced-off part of the electricity sub-station. This is probably what the deep topographer Nick Papadimitriou would call an “adjunct” to the bigger system at the end of the lane. The golf course crosses the lane (between the first and second tees) and to the left there is a 'Goals' five-a-side football centre with the tagline “The Beautiful Game”. Most of the traffic in the lane (barely any, though) is for the leisure outlets.

Kirkstall Valley Nature Reserve
The gate at the entrance to the reserve on the right of the lane is designed by the children from Burley St Matthias School:



This gate takes you onto a path which stretches along the banks of the Aire and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal. I think it is possible the preservation area stretches as far as Kirkstall Abbey, but I have only walked part of it in the past, although from a window of an office on Kirkstall Road I have seen some interesting wildlife, including kingfishers. I spent the summer of 2008 working at this office in between my BA and MA. I used to gaze longingly into the river on hot days, thinking about arranging some kind of performative act which involved me donning a swimsuit and flinging myself into the Aire.

The Bridges
Right near the entrance to the nature reserve are two bridges. The first is a modern bridge used by the railway, bridge no. TJC3/22 (I am including the bridge references for the benefit of any train-spotters who like to search for this kind of information). Directly after that bridge, with barely any space in between, is the old, probably Victorian, bridge (TJC3/22A). A google search for these bridges throws up a Yorkshire Post article about water leaking from the base of the modern bridge, apparently threatening to flood the sub-station and 'Goals'. I really like the two bridges next to each other (the modern and postmodern). The Victorian bridge is particularly attractive and my photo does not do it justice:



The Electricity Sub-Station
As you pass under the bridges the sub-station is straight ahead. My second visit to it was not as aesthetically powerful as my first. I think this was because it was a surprise discovery the first time around. Nevertheless, I don't want to understate how imposing it is. Its dominance is of a monolithic nature.



The sub-station is surrounded by greenery and it sits in a kind of enclave amidst the trees, grass and foliage. So, you have the sound of birds and the wind blowing through the trees, and also the hum of the station. Different parts of the site emitted different sounds. At one point there was a clicking sound coming from the machinery, which sounded rather like a cricket.




Signs and Notices
I took a few photos of some of the signs but as I got to the point of taking a photo of an interesting looking National Grid sign which was falling apart, I got the visit-from-security. I had noticed the portakabin and knew there was someone in there but thought I could sneak past to the gate and get the shot. But, no chance. Mr. Jobsworth, bored to death in his cabin, was going to allow me to 'make his day'.




One of the signs had C E Electric UK written on it. Who, according to their website, are “...responsible for delivering electricity to over 3.8 million properties across the North East of England, Yorkshire and northern Lincolnshire.”:

C E Electric UK

On the same sign was another logo: SmartWater, which appears to be a police sponsored crime reduction initiative. I did see a police van drive around the area while I was there. Interestingly, they didn't see me as a 'threat', even though the security guard obviously did. What is SmartWater, you may ask? Well, their website explains that “...SmartWater is a colourless liquid solution that is simply dabbed onto the uneven surfaces of your valuables. It can be used to code all sorts of items such as jewellery, ornaments, electrical items and even your motor vehicle. Each bottle contains a unique chemical ‘code’ which is registered to you – conclusively proving ownership. It cannot be easily seen by the naked eye and is almost impossible to remove. The liquid glows under ultraviolet light making it easy for the Police to detect.”.

SmartWater

Concluding the Walk
After being caught by the security guard, I walked in the direction of the exit and I think the guard thought I had left. But, I actually continued to walk around the sub-sation and take more photos. I found a caravan storage park and also, at the back of the sub-station I found a place that moored boats:



I then sat down on the grass to write up some notes. But after about 5 minutes I could see the security guard walking towards me and I made a quick getaway. When I was walking back home up the hill towards Burley the sky ahead of me looked dark and ominous, whereas behind, over the valley, the sky was bright, sunny and dotted with white clouds. The two photos below are from the same spot on Argie Road: the first towards Headingley and the second towards Kirkstall Valley.




When I entered St Michaels Lane in Headingley I spotted a green and yellow pill on the pavement. I decided to name the walk after the pill, which turned out to be fluoxetine, aka Prozac.