Alison Stewart
December 19, 2011
Lets Take A Stroll
“Observe the street from time to time, with some concern of system perhaps. Apply yourself. Take your time… Note down what you can see. Anything worthy of not going on. Do you know how to see what’s worthy of note? Is there anything that strikes you? Nothing strikes you. You don’t know how to see. You must set about it more slowly, almost stupidly. Force yourself to write down what is of no interest, what is most obvious, most common, most colourless” (Perec 50).
I step out the sliding double doors and I walk. Quick, directed steps lead me out into the brisk December air and my journey of the Brooklyn streets begins. It is a familiar journey that I have taken many, many times (often as much as four times a day) and I am not alone on this journey, but I am one of many. I am walking to the subway. The universal means of transportation that most every New Yorker takes, rich or poor, but however, today’s journey is no focused on the actual subway at all, today I am focus of the walk itself. Today I explore the sidewalks, the street lamps, the gates, the dogs on leashes. Today I explore the overlooked, unnoticed, and often disregarded treasures that the sidewalks of St. James Place and Dekalb have to offer. Today I explore the graffiti, markings, the posters, and the stickers placed by hidden on the streets of Clinton Hill and through these markings I am able to map my journey. I explore the etchings on the sidewalk, the stickers behind the one-way sign, and the piled and layered posters of want ads and missing dog signs on the street light post. Through the graffiti I am able to map the chosen area by exploring art placed in areas and on objects that they were unintended for as well as observing the people, the places, and the things that make up our everyday lives in close detail.
In the essay, “Walking in the City,” by Michael De Certeau, De Certeau speaks about the importance of walking and “seeing” a city from the ground, rather than seen from above in a birds-eye-view so often seen in maps. “To be lifted to the summit of the World Trade Center is to be lifted out of the city’s grasp,” states De Certeau (157). De Certeau believes that by viewing a city from above, the viewer can easily misunderstand what he or she is seeing and is not able to appreciate the location. De Certeau strongly argues the only way to understand an area is to walk it, and he explains that walking down below is the threshold at which visibility begins. (158). So, in order to fully appreciate and accurately map my location I have no other choice than to walk, and so my journey begins.
With De Certeau’s words in mind I put one foot in front of the other. I walk, I walk, and I walk. My pace at first is fast; so habituated to the quick steps I normally take, I must remind myself to slow down. I have no time schedule, no one I need to meet, and no place I need to be. I have time to observe, explore, and examine. In James Corner’s essay, “The Agency of Mapping: Speculation, Critique and Invention” Corner writes about a concept of mapping called drifting in which an area is mapped by walking aimlessly, with no particular path or stopping point and this idea concept much so applies to my technique as well. Drifting forms a “more cognitive mapping than mimetic description of the cityscape,” states Corner (231). By walking aimlessly the walkers’ map beings to reflects subjective, personal experiences rather than just purely factual. To walk and to explore with no sense of time and direction allows to walker to experience their walk and take in a new understanding of the journey. Things such as cracks in the sidewalks become craters. Puddles of rainwater in the road become ponds, and parks become forests in the mind of the walker. The everyday now becomes the terrain. Every terrain becomes projected on a larger scale
Graffiti is everywhere. Black marker, white marker, yellow maker—graffiti artists use them all. Small stickers, large stickers, colorful and dark ones can be seen on the sides of trashcans and the backs of street signs. Etchings in the concrete and paint on the brick all contribute to the graffiti artwork in Clinton Hill. Why did these artists leave these marks, I wonder? What message are they trying to bare? Is there a certain meaning behind these images?
As I walk, not only do I notice the graffiti, but I also notice the people around me as we. As Perec states in the essay, “The Street” in Species of Spaces and other Pieces, “The people in the streets: where are they coming from? Where are they going? Who are they?” I must observe everything and everyone in order to truly map in detail. As I walk slowly, the others walk quickly and hurriedly. As I talk time to notice the small writing in the corner of the gate, others only notice their cell phones and watches. I judge them as they walk speedily walk away from me thinking “Why are you in such a hurry?” when I have to remind myself that I am normally one of those people on any other day of the week. slowly walk, the other walkers quickly step around me. It seems as though because I am not walking quickly enough, I am in their way, like a brick wall in the middle of the sidewalk. In one incidence I stop walking to take a picture of graffiti I saw marked on a private fence and someone yells at me, “You can’t just stand in the middle of the sidewalk like that!” as the walk around me. On this walk I have learned about more than just graffiti, I have learned about the people that occupy the streets as well. So caught up are they in their lives and routines that even something as innocent as stopping in the sidewalk becomes and inconvenience to them,
As I walk, the concept of drifting comes to mind, explained in James Corner’s essay, “The Agency of Mapping; Speculation, Critique and Invention.” Corner, as well as De Certeau, comments on the importance of walking in mapping a cit yTo Corner, walking is one of the most important activities involved in mapping and in order to fully take in a city one must walk. So this is what I am doing, I am walking and documenting. Drifting is a way of mapping that Corner writes about and although I know where I am going, the method of drifting applies directly to the way I am mapping my journey. “They were less interested in art objects and stylistic concerns than with the engaging life situations and social formations.” Through walking aimlessly the walkers’ map reflects subjective, personal experiences rather than just purely factual. To walk and to explore with no sense of time and direction allows to walker to experience their walk and take in a new understanding of the journey. Things such as cracks in the sidewalks become craters. Puddles of rainwater in the road become ponds, and parks become forests in the mind of the walker. Every terrain becomes projected on what they seeing front of time because this is their everyday life.
As do most people, my normal walk to the subway is often rushed, quick, and direct. Whether it is I’m running late for work or I simply want to get out of the cold, my walk to the subway is not often leisurely. Although quick walking is good exercise, it does not, however, allow much time for me to take notice of the art around me and by art I mean graffiti, markings, stickers, and signs left by one person for another to see in an area unintended for such purposes.
Often times when one walks in New York City, one is walking with a purpose. Especially as the weather begins to turn colder it is even less common to see anyone taking a leisurely stroll, perhaps hand in hand with his or her child or spouse, or by themselves just enjoying the day. With the bustle and everyday grind of life it is easy for people to get preoccupied in their own problems. In my journey I am doing he opposite of what most of the travelers around me are doing. I am taking a stroll. I am walking without a pressing purpose and I am walking slowly. Graffiti is everywhere. No, not blatantly so as in the subway train from the 1980’s seen in “Style Wars,” but at the bottom of street light posts and the back of signs. It is drawn on the corner of the fire hydrant and seen on the bottom of the trash can.
As I slowly walk, the other walkers quickly step around me. It seems as though because I am not walking quickly enough, I am in their way, like a brick wall in the middle of the sidewalk. In one incidence I stop walking to take a picture of graffiti I saw marked on a private fence and someone yells at me, “You can’t just stand in the middle of the sidewalk like that!” as the walk around me. On this walk I have learned about more than just graffiti, I have learned about the people that occupy the streets as well. So caught up are they in their lives and routines that even something as innocent as stopping in the sidewalk becomes and inconvenience to them,
Graffiti by definition is writing or drawings scribbled, scratched, or sprayed illicitly on a wall of other surface in a public place. To some graffiti is art; to others it is vandalism. To some it enhances a neighborhood with character and liveliness; to others it is an eye sore. To some it exemplifies an urban and thriving culture; to others it is a never-ending plague. In the documentary “Style Wars” that debuted in 1983 and directed by Tony Silver, Silver documents the effect that graffiti and graffiti artists have on the community. “I’ll show you graffiti… Is that an art form?” states Detective Bernie Jenkins who is the crime prevention coordinator for the New York City transit police department, “I don’t know but I sure as hell can tell you that’s a crime.”
However one thinks of graffiti, whether fondly or not, one cannot deny that it is everywhere. Sure because of modern technology and laws, graffiti such as “train bombing” which is seen in Style Wars, is no longer around but artists still find ways to leave their mark regardless. I run into my first graffiti quickly after walking out my door. On the back of a sign screwed into the gate at 215 Willoughby, I see several stickers piled up on top of each other. The top one states “PTOSIS.” I quickly move down the street, heading west on Willoughby and I run into my second encounter with graffiti. The U.S. postal service mailbox has been tagged in red and silver paint.
The graffiti that I find is miniscule, small at most. Gone are the days of radical art pieces seen on subway trains and city walls. All that is left are small markings seen on parking signs and fire hydrants here in Clinton Hill, but they remain nonetheless. Graffiti has been around for ages, dating back to prehistoric times in the form of historic cave paintings and still to this day they live. Although there are many graffiti pieces in Brooklyn, lots of which are commissioned, in my walk I only encounter the small and minor, drawn in the corner or down low as not to be seen.
