![xii Prelude
distancing and contact.1
Doel (1996: 436, original emphasis), drawing on
Deleuze and Guattari, teaches us that ‘there is no space without folding, and
therefore no geography without origami. For every act of spacing involves an
imbrication of folds’. Derrida (2004: 337) links spacing to différance, which
is, as he so famously described, the ‘systematic play of differences, of traces
of differences, of the spacing by means of which elements are related to each
other. . . . It is also the becoming-space of the spoken chain – which has been
called temporal or linear; a becoming-space which makes possible both writ-
ing and every correspondence between speech and writing, every passage
from one to the other’. Spacing is similar to flirting but also to playing. Each
of these activities shares in common ‘a movement between order and chaos’
while constituting a ‘tension between control and chaos. Sometimes playing
is voluntarily surrendering to form; sometimes it is being seduced into form,
being appropriated by a plaything. Some other times, the pleasure comes
from the appropriation of those forms, breaking and deforming them to play
with them’ (Sicart 2014: 10, 83).
All of this welcomingly emerged as a different world from the discipline
that might long ago have been expected to understand space, geography,
indeed human geography. Alas, this did not prove to be the case during the
middle of the twentieth century, during which aspects of a humane under-
standing of human geography’s space nudged forwards but were sidetracked
by something very different. As Gregory (1981) and more recently Barnes
and Minca (2013) have argued, things turned otherwise. Examining a case of
extremes in the emerging confinement of geography, he charted the fascist-
inspired work of the 1940s when state domination of developments across
then Nazi Germany and beyond required state ‘efficiency’ above anything
else, in the work on distances between settlements exemplified in the state-
directed work of Christaller (1933). Distances between locations ‘ideal’
[sic] for human development were to be, and later assumed they could be,
determined without attention to the character of human life, perfect distances
for efficiency of production and distribution. These deterministic strains of
attention were there to control, and the state would be aided in this by its
particular kind of geography: positivistic and often of negligible engagement
with humanity or human life, and, of course too, the other-than human.
Not long after that time, David Harvey’s (1973) seminal work Social Jus-
tice and the City extended the critique of the war-influenced geography to the
wide world of capitalist accumulation and its priorities for the ways in which
human beings survive. In the same year, Raymond Williams’s (1973) hugely
humanistic and cultural Marxist approach jolted the discipline that claimed
priority over space through his attention to a historical analysis of cultural
perspective. Aligned with his attention to the overarching power of capitalism
in producing capitalist space, Harvey (1989) argued that this stretched to a](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-17-320.jpg)
![Prelude xiii
compression of the world in terms of spacetime: time-space compression as
part of his Marxist or Marx-influenced treatise on space (expressed through
the City). This grip arguably dominated life, in the city and beyond, and very
much at a global level. The continuing importance of this ‘compression’
and its limitations and other overlooked components of power and influ-
ence over cultural life is in evidence across a number of the chapters in this
book, including those that seek its refinement, exemplified by Crouch in this
volume. Similar extensions of space-time power continue to be typical of
colonialism and equally the subjugation, or exclusion of sectors of the popu-
lation in many countries, from majorities in the case of women to those distin-
guished by ‘minority’ [sic] religious beliefs and practices, as our chapters by
Ghraowi and Zivkovic demonstrate. Acutely, Moyo takes an intimately close
interrogation of intertwining or commingling among more widely overarch-
ing schemas of colonialism and post-colonial power and the lived and affec-
tive performances, including the openly or suffusively resistant.
With some frustration with this mid-century Marxist emphasis, it was
these apparent occlusions of thought that did not seem to engage the close-
up, felt human existence and its affects, a loose-knit and creatively thinking
group of geographers pressed for a component of human geography that
would attend to this lacuna, in the name of humanistic geography. A distant
child of the nineteenth century, this geography rediscovered the potential of
the geographer Vidal de la Blache (1926), who was among the first to use
the term ‘human geography’ and to argue for its enlarged vision. His work
(Gregory 1981) encapsulated in positioning the possibilities of human life in
all its contents and discontents can do in relation with the environment, with
more than a hint of environmental determinism. Human geography’s often
incompatible philosophical orientations were mixed and included existential-
ism and phenomenology. Some key proponents of the new subheading of
geography focused on our everyday surroundings as humans; others found its
pursuit in the terrain and territory of wealthy landowners or painterly artwork
of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (Cosgrove and Daniels 1988). This
mixture and orientation and yet often-limited foci did not sustain itself in
the ongoing decades, except perhaps for Yi-Fu Tuan (2012), an inspirational
Chinese American writer and humanistic geographer who sustained some
core tenets of human relationality with the environment and its care for it,
including almost spiritual colour in the ways in which human affection can
work. He worked with the word and idea of place, often at issue today with
regard to space, of which more will follow in this prelude. His writing is
closely embraced in a range of humanities’ work today.
Perhaps, surprisingly, some of the intentions that fuelled the humanistic
character of geography persist, including very advanced work on philoso-
phies and world views. These, as the following paragraphs elaborate, include](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-18-320.jpg)
![xvi Prelude
A component of the complexity, often appearing as messiness, in these
recent flows of human and social geography, for some time now having
distinguished itself from the ‘humanistic’ sort, is the increasingly prominent
awareness of the mutuality of affect among the embroiled human and other-
than-human life, and beyond that, the wider materiality, much influenced by
the now acute and almost pervasive awareness of matters of environmental
risks and vulnerabilities as well as threats, emphatically handled in the con-
tribution by Martin Gren that engages recent developments of the idea of the
contemporary era termed the ‘Anthropocene’ (Crutzen 2006), in this volume.
Other fluid strands remain in intense debate. Nieuwenhuis, for instance,
addresses the relationship between the study and practice of politics and the
oftentimes assumed but too little analysed ‘geo’ in the study and field of geo-
politics. His chapter focuses on the materiality of politics and offers an analy-
sis that is situated amid a growing body of similar approaches that attempt
to reconnect politics to its physical foundations (see e.g. Yusoff et al. 2012).
As already noted, the sociologist John Urry engaged in difficult questions
concerning space (1985) although he came to be more focused on ideas of
place, that he aligned with practices, processes and structures of consumption
(see e.g. Urry 1995). In doing so, Urry closed in on the power of consump-
tion in representation. Since then there have been many interventions that
have opened the idea of consumption in terms of both other-than market-
directed and composed presentations to bring together, on the one hand more
life-centred explanations of ‘consumption’ exemplified by Miller’s (2008)
writing in The Comfort of Things. Cocker’s (2007) writing, through her
conceptual-practical interventions in art theory, which continue to surprise
through her explorations of moving in the city, and Crouch’s chapter in this
volume, where painting, far from necessarily being considered merely as a
representational concern, are examples of performativity. Ann Game (1991,
but also Metcalfe and Game 2008) comes close to our concerns in her socio-
logical writing of experiencing space, in ways that embroil memory, context,
representations and performativity.
The occurrence of space latterly has come to engage dance and perfor-
mance studies in making sense of the performative relation between move-
ment, poise and their surroundings as space (Hunter 2015). In her writing,
Hunter articulates a movement, a becoming from space and culture into
place. The theatre director Peter Brook as long ago as 1968 opened his book
on The Empty Space: ‘I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage.
A man [sic] walks across this empty space while someone is watching him
and this is all I need for an act of theatre to be engaged’ (Brook 1972: 11).
Therefore, that space becomes animated in the relationships, the relationality
of things. Architectural theory is animated through attention to the feeling(s)
of space (Andersson 2012). In George Revill’s chapter in this volume he](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-21-320.jpg)
![Prelude xxiii
practices and performance; identity and belonging, disorientation and alien-
ation; sadness and buoyancy; values, attitudes and life and its materiality. Is
there a structure to our play? Are there rules to follow? Or, are the chapters
arranged deliberately unsystematically for play to flourish? A bit of both per-
haps? We offer neither start nor finish, but a few rules are necessary for play
to be possible. We move from the intimate flirting with space (Crouch) to the
performing of it (Moyo), its sounds (Revill) and the belonging to (Zivkovic)
and longing for place (Ghraowi) to the reimagining of potential place (Wata-
nabe), its political form (Nieuwenhuis), the possibility and impossibility of
its virtuality (Belibou) to atmospheres as media and conditions for life (Con-
way), and we give our last voice to the Earth (Gren). Is there a structure, a
little surely, but not so much as to impose, just enough only to facilitate play?
Along the way, several chapters connect with often taken-as-parallel notion
of place alongside space, prompting further critical thought on why their often
habitual distinctions are presented. With Deleuze and Guattari (1988/2013) as
well as, though differently imagined, Massey (2008), space and spacetimes
become ever open in their dynamic character, and relationships of place, its
fixity and long duration and the fluidity of space become adequately held
within the notion of space, as our relationship with what we call space is itself
changing, at once full of reassurance and at the next uncertain. Doubtless, the
common, everyday currency of the word ‘place’ survives and will continue
to do so, but through the idea of space it is possible to contain variability and
diversity and avoid the duality of things (Deleuze and Guattari 1988/2013;
Massey 2008; Crouch 2010). Yet Deleuze and Guattari (ibid.) install another
duality, of smooth and striated space. Their ‘striated space’ is the product of
overarching power and control, and engenders order, domination and surveil-
lance. Their terms of smooth space, however, render openness and potential-
ity, emphatically the product of freedom, thus another way that they invite in
hope. Another potential way of thinking space through, in a way that is able
to contain both the inevitable openness and fluidity of space and its poten-
tial democracy, is without engaging a third separate character for space, to
consider all human dealings with/of space as a striating process, the marks of
individuals and collectivities caring, recoverable and playful rather than fixed
and dominating (see Crouch 2010). For the ways in which space works, we
leave to the depths of the chapters themselves.
NOTE
1. Derrida writes that ‘like dissemination, like difference, it [ie. l’espacement]
carries along with it a genetic motif: it is not only the interval, the space constituted
between two things . . . but also spacing, the operation, or in any event, the movement
of setting aside’ (Derrida 1981: 106, n. 42).](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-28-320.jpg)
![4 Chapter 1
articulate something of the ways in which we participate in how space occurs.
In doing so, components of anthropology and others increasingly mutually
engaged with arts literature, including performance alongside other disci-
plines, are conjoined in their closer attention to human and other-than human
lived character and energy.
My investigations include allotment gardening, caravanning and aspects of
doing tourism, of being tourist; the making of community maps and diverse
work in the arts, and into the particular space-practice of professional artists,
most notably Peter Lanyon (Crouch and Toogood 1999). Two of these inves-
tigations are focused. The first is a particular aspect of culture and cultivation
in the form of allotment, or community gardening. For example, allotments
appeal because they challenge the earlier geographical focus on an idea
of ‘landscape’, human–other relations, feelings and freedoms. Landscape,
for example, became conceptualized several decades ago as something of
paintings in a depictive form of correspondence, of heavily invested layouts
‘designed’ typically in so-called ‘great’ [sic] estates of the landed. Allotments
present a popular participation through which the multiple ways of practice,
values, meanings and affectivities affect how space can occur through their
distinctive atmospheres literally and figuratively ‘on the ground’, in ways
that resist avoidance of the wider rhythms and pulses beyond the human. The
second consideration turns to ways in which particular approaches to under-
standing the making of art throw different insights into how human and other-
than-human affectivities emerge and become affective, along with memory,
in the occurrence of space. I consider the artist here as primarily a human
being, living and feeling. I introduce insights from these works along the way.
In each of these investigations, a central source is in what is said and how.
While we may contest the ways in which individuals may seek to express or
report their responses in feelings, intensity and so on, my emphases offer one
way in which to progress understanding.
In one final prelude to the depth enquiries, I burrow briefly into two
threads of profound attention to the question of the workings of space, in
Deleuze and Guattari (2004) and in Massey (2005). These leitmotifs are
developed through a critique of other strands of space-thinking, drawing
attention towards the character of space in relation to work on atmospheres
and affects through the relational term ‘affectivities’, particularly of Stewart.
This discussion is done dynamically through the texture of empirical inves-
tigations, community gardening and painting as space-process. In this way
the chapter seeks to draw through, to draw out, connections of the liveliness
of atmospheres in the generative process of spacing. Taking up once again
insights from the two investigations, the chapter continues to examine these
themes by engaging a consideration of feelings, values and attitudes in the
idea of gentle politics, again cross-examining such an approach alongside](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-37-320.jpg)
![Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 7
Atmosphere is multiple and full of volume, as Anderson articulated in his
seminal paper (2009). And so is space. Stewart’s articulation, rather than
abstractions, of atmospheres appeals because of her sometimes poetic han-
dling and relating of numerous elements occurring in existence: global, inti-
mate. As Anderson précised Dufrenne’s position from phenomenology: ‘The
atmosphere of an aesthetic object discloses the space-time of an “expressed
world” – it does not re-present objective space-time or lived space-time. It
creates a space of intensity that overflows a represented world organized into
subjects and objects or subjects and other subjects. Instead, it is through an
atmosphere that a represented object will be apprehended and will take on
a certain meaning. Examples abound in Dufrenne’s writings; a feeling of
emptiness communicated by a chilling verse, a tragic feeling in Macbeth, or
the motionless opacity of Cezanne’s landscapes’ (ibid.: 79; Dufrenne 1973
[1953]). I am not so sure about Cezanne’s paintings’ opacity and will come
to consider this later in this chapter in terms of more explicit and perhaps
also energetic works of the artist Lanyon, abstractions rather than abstract,
felt rather than merely conceptual. In the discussion that follows, I consider
a wider and deeper and less classically aesthetically considered aesthetic of
the everyday as lived that goes beyond Dufrenne. Atmosphere, as Anderson
identified, is indeterminate, but what ‘matters’ in feeling and in meaning is
how the atmosphere is actually lived, engaged and made some sense of, its
affectivity, however incomplete and skewed through experience – and feeling
(Anderson 2009).
Atmosphere is surely three dimensional and trans-historical, widely politi-
cal yet locates itself, but in the feeling of life that we can be half aware of,
perhaps know, human beings in everyday living, human beings but not human
centred. And, of course, atmospheres change multiply, contradictorily, amoe-
bically (Anderson 2009). And so, again of course, do the components and
relations of the affective. Crucially we may not be aware of being affected.
Massumi explains: ‘Affect as a whole, then, is the virtual co-presence of
potentials . . . our living bearing numerous possibilities in however modest
ways that can merge, co-relate, affect. These potentials, as unexpected and
unimagined possibilities, occur not only in our own self but in our relations
with others, including the other-than-human and materialities’ (2002: 213).
In a direct consideration of art, Turions put it this way: ‘Affect proved to be
an elusive concept. . ., rather [t]he force of manipulation that an artwork car-
ries . . . a tactic we use to press on each other’ (2013, see also Crouch 2014).
In Stewart’s deft and explicit handling of atmospheres, she speaks to ideas
of America and its parts as well as intimacies of individuals’ lives, singly and
collectively (2011). While Böhme identifies the ambiguity of atmospheres,
Stewart identifies how they or their affects may be momentarily coagulated](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-40-320.jpg)
![14 Chapter 1
space is constantly being translated, traversed into striated space; striated
space is constantly being reversed, returned to smooth space’ (Deleuze and
Guattari 2004, my italics). Capitalist space is not totalizing, save particularly
acute moments perhaps of war; lives, depleted and corrupted by it, may still
eke out a thread that can still be open, but that should not ease the agitation
of our thought. Variation and flexibility are implied in the shift between this
otherwise-apparent duality.
Moreover, if we consider that politics is embedded in the diverse elements
of lived atmospheres as concerning meanings, interpretations, attitudes and
values, then everyday life’s affectivities are significant in what politics is. As
in other links of atmospheres and affectivities, these everyday emergences are
not detached from the wider state, corporation and party-related politics. Yet
the elements of the everyday hold a potentiality of distinction. And in every-
day living these emerge with their own distinctive character, differently felt
and difficult simply to classify. Everyday interactions bear their affectivities
too, as well as what may be considered to take place at a ‘higher’ [sic] level.
Thus, everyday tacit negotiations, sometimes linked with more organized
influences and movements, are themselves affective at the intimate level of
things. I refer to this kind of politics as gentle, but perhaps no less significant
in the feeling of being alive.
In this way it becomes possible to question the duality of Deleuze and
Guattari between what they term ‘striated space’, overwhelmed by the power
and organizing affects of capitalism, and ‘smooth space’, unaffected by
capitalism, open and of freedom. It may be that more pervasive affects of
striated space occur through actions of national or regional, or political power
wielded by capitalist entities and their webs. Yet in making our own affects
in everyday life actions, whether coherently made or not, these take the form
of striations, if less heavily carved, grooved or stained as Deleuze and Guat-
tari position what they call capitalist space. These life actions constitute the
diverse, possibly more constant, possibly more varying gentle politics.
Gentle politics is not something minor, subordinate, secondary, but an
important dynamic of energies that work relationally in multiple and com-
mingling ways.2
Returning to the occurrence of everyday spacetimes, Carol describes her
experience of tending her plot of land:
Working outdoors feels much better for you somehow . . . more vigorous than
day to day housework, much more variety and stimulus. The air is always dif-
ferent and alerts the skin, unexpected scents are brought by breezes. Only when
on your hands and knees do you notice insects and other small wonders. My
allotment is a central part of my life. I feel strongly that everyone should have
some access to land, to establish a close relationship with the earth, something](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-47-320.jpg)
![18 Chapter 1
Tangles of the mundane swirl into and from these, too. Like those corpo-
rate and institutional worlds, their forces and affects and direct effects, they
are enormously varied across lives – and sites and atmospheres of living.
Similarly, a domination of their being given priority in our attentions must
equally be in the hearing and response ranges of our enquiries. As Jane Ben-
nett explained, there are others than us who participate in this worlding, and
no less in the occurrence of space, in their affects:
To acknowledge non-human materialities as participants in a political ecology
is not to claim that everything is always a participant, or that all participants are
alike. Persons, worms, leaves, bacteria, metals and hurricanes have different
types and degrees of power, just as different persons have different types and
degrees of power. . . but surely the scope of democratisation can be broadened
to acknowledge more non-humans in more ways, in something like the ways in
which we have come to hear the political voices of other humans. (2010: 109)
As we become more aware of and alert to the other-than human, it is impor-
tant to hold on to what Bennett (also) implies regarding the unevenness of
human affects, but also influence and power. Moreover, as Crossley argued
intently, intersubjectivity matters and is not to be overlooked. While many
artists, perhaps somewhat like Lanyon, may be relative solitaries, humans at
large are and act collectively, often thought today to be merely of historical
interest. Collectives and everyday cooperative practice inhabits becoming, as
Crossley’s (1996: 27) title; ‘becoming’ implies, akin and frequently germane
to the collective character of becoming among even ‘mundane’ [sic] creativ-
ity (Cohen 2007), and Inger Birkeland underscores the continuing importance
of intersubjectivity that does not overlook human participation in her writing
on the making of self and place (Birkeland 2005).
In a way, this brief reflection points to the need to, as it were, ‘flesh out
the rhizomes’, a kind of root that often seems to have an echoing of the old
geographical obsession with such as distance, geographically/geopolitically
inscribed boundaries, thin lines on maps that simply prove a point. Ingold
has made lines thicken and come alive (Ingold 2011). Similarly, notions of
layering often suggest, inadvertently, the ‘settling’ of time in particular, but
also of lives, events and affects. Yet, of course, each layer can be disrupted,
and its bits erupt into the present. Memory, again, rarely remains continuous
or consistent.
I have sought to develop something of an understanding of the vibrancy of
the occurrence of space through collision of multiplicities of affects towards
worlding. Lives and feelings feature prominently in this narrative because
I think they do in the unpicking of spacing evoked in the words, mood, feel-
ings, values and attitudes of the individuals who appear here, appear in life](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-51-320.jpg)
![20 Chapter 1
Crouch, David. 2010. Flirting with Space: Journeys and Creativity. Farnham:
Ashgate.
Crouch, David. 2014. ‘Review Essay: Reading/Feeling’. Edited T. Boudoin, F. Berg-
holtz, V. Ziherl. Emotion, Space and Society 12:118–119.
Crouch, David, and David Matless. 1996. ‘Refiguring Geography: The Parish
Maps of Common Ground’. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers
21:236–255.
Crouch, David, and Mark Toogood. 1999. ‘Everyday Abstraction: Geographical
Knowledge in the Art of Peter Lanyon’. Ecumene 6 (1):72–89.
Crouch, David, and Colin Ward. 1997. The Allotment: Its Landscape and Culture. 5th
edition. Nottingham: Five Leaves Publications.
Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. 2004. A Thousand Plateaus. London: Continuum.
Dufrenne, Mikel. 1973 [1953]. The Phenomenology of Aesthetic Experience. Trans-
lated by Edward S. Casey, Albert A. Anderson, Willis Domingo and Leon Jacob-
son. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press.
Grosz, Elizabeth. 1999. ‘Thinking the New: Of Futures Yet Unthought’. In Becom-
ings: Explorations in Time, Memory and Futures, edited by Elizabeth Grosz,
15–28. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Hallam, Elizabeth, and Tim Ingold. 2007. ‘Creativity and Cultural Improvisation: An
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Ingold, Tim. 2011. Being Alive: Essays on Movement, Knowledge and Description.
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Lanyon, Andrew. 1993. Peter Lanyon. Newlyn: Andrew Lanyon.
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Mitchell, Don. 2003. ‘Dead Labor and the Political Economy of Landscape – California
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Anderson, Mona Domosh, Steve Pile and Nigel Thrift, 233–248. London: Sage.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/18091337-250518101037-64c3d93f/85/The-Question-Of-Space-Interrogating-The-Spatial-Turn-Between-Disciplines-Illustrated-Marijn-Nieuwenhuis-Editor-53-320.jpg)
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- 6. The Question of Space
- 7. Place, Memory, Affect Series editors: Neil Campbell, Professor of American Studies at the Univer- sity of Derby and Christine Berberich, School of Social, Historical and Liter- ary Studies at the University of Portsmouth. The Place, Memory, Affect series seeks to extend and deepen debates around the intersections of place, memory, and affect in innovative and challeng- ing ways. The series will forge an agenda for new approaches to the edgy relations of people and place within the transnational global cultures of the twenty-first century and beyond. Walking Inside Out edited by Tina Richardson The Last Isle: Contemporary Taiwan Film, Culture, and Trauma by Sheng-mei Ma Divided Subjects, Invisible Borders: Re-Unified Germany After 1989 by Ben Gook The Mother’s Day Protest and Other Fictocritical Essays by Stephen Muecke Affective Critical Regionality by Neil Campbell Visual Arts Practice and Affect edited by Ann Schilo Haunted Landscapes edited by Ruth Heholt and Niamh Downing In the Ruins of the Cold War Bunker: Affect, Materiality and Meaning Making edited by Luke Bennett The Question of Space: Interrogating the Spatial Turn between Disciplines edited by Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch Nature, Place and Affect: The Poetic Affinities of Edward Thomas and Robert Frost 1912–1917 by Anna Stenning (forthcoming)
- 8. The Question of Space Interrogating the Spatial Turn between Disciplines Edited by Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch London • New York
- 9. Published by Rowman & Littlefield International Ltd Unit A, Whitacre Mews, 26-34 Stannary Street, London SE11 4AB www.rowmaninternational.com Rowman & Littlefield International Ltd. is an affiliate of Rowman & Littlefield 4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706, USA With additional offices in Boulder, New York, Toronto (Canada), and Plymouth (UK) www.rowman.com Copyright © 2017 Selections and Editorial Matter Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch Copyright in individual chapters is held by the respective chapter authors. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: HB 978-1-7866-0194-0 PB 978-1-7866-0195-7 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Is Available ISBN 978-1-78660-194-0 (cloth: alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-78660-195-7 (pbk: alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-78660-196-4 (electronic) The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48–1992. Printed in the United States of America
- 10. v Acknowledgementsvii Prelude: Playing with Space ix Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch 1 Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 1 David Crouch 2 ‘Knowing One’s Place’: Mapping Landscapes in and as Performance in Contemporary South Africa 23 Awelani Moyo 3 Vocalic Space: Socio-Materiality and Sonic Spatiality 43 George Revill 4 bell hooks’s Affective Politics of Space and Belonging 63 Yvonne Zivkovic 5 As Tenses Implode: Encountering Post-Traumatic Urbanism in Ghassan Kanafani’s ʿĀʾid ila Hayfā81 Ghayde Ghraowi 6 ‘Place’ in an Inverted World? A Japanese Theory of Place 97 Atsuko Watanabe 7 The Invisible Lines of Territory: An Investigation into the Make-Up of Territory 115 Marijn Nieuwenhuis 8 Two Internet Cartographies: Google Maps and the Unmappable Darknet 135 Andrei Belibou Contents
- 11. vi Contents 9 Space Is No One Thing: Luring Thought through Film and Philosophy 151 Philip Conway 10 Mayday – A Letter from the Earth 167 Martin Gren Postlude: And… And… And… 181 Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch Index191 Notes on Contributors 199
- 12. vii The completion of this book was made possible with an Early Career Research Grant from the Institute of Advanced Study at the University of Warwick. We would like to thank the editors of the Place, Memory, Affect series Professor Neil Campbell and Dr Christine Berberich for their invalu- able help and expertise that greatly assisted our writing. We also thank Mike Watson, Editorial Assistant at Rowman Littlefield International, for his patience throughout the entire process. We are grateful to Andrei Belibou for his invaluable help with the referencing and indexing in this book. Finally, we thank the contributors of this volume for their creative writings and unbridled enthusiasm. Acknowledgements
- 14. ix This edited volume is the spontaneous and unplanned child of an interdisci- plinary marriage between scholars from a variety of backgrounds. It found its world through workshop dialogues, email conversations, thought speculations and musings about the meaning and value we attach to the concept and matter of space in our respective work. Because of its very nature, space provided us with the perfect mediation to collaborate and speak to another. Space performs as a category of knowledge in all our work but is in our thinking also a practis- ing of reality. The way we, as disciplined scholars and socialized individuals, think about space informs the way we shape, value, delineate, relate and inter- act with the materiality of the world. An interdisciplinary analysing of space, as proposed here, is not a passive preoccupation but a dynamic and displacing force. Our intention, therefore, is not merely to speak metaphorically when we claim that space has helped us to build bridges between us but to argue and show that our conversations have helped us in establishing news spaces. The collection presents ten innovative research chapters and a conclusion, chapters that demonstrate grounds for conceptual growth and investigative originality, collaboration across common ground, and increasingly shared theoretical sources, yet each in their own disciplines demonstrating the dis- tinctive character that each brings to the debate concerning space. Space is addressed as problematic and not obvious, self-evident or resolved, but, like itself, its understanding if continually ‘in the making’, and remains so through the book, yet prompting further enquiry. This volume brings together a range of authors from different backgrounds each of whom in their distinctive manner present different readings of the ways in which we relate to the thing and subject of space. None of us accept the idea that space is an ‘afterthought of social relations’ (Warf and Arias 2009: 1) that it is a reality independent of our existence. ‘Space and time only Prelude Playing with Space Marijn Nieuwenhuis and David Crouch
- 15. x Prelude exist when there are entities in some sense in space and time’ (Urry 1985: 24). We agree with Barney Warf and Santa Arias’s (2009: 1, original emphasis) claim that the ‘where things happen is critical to knowing how and why they happen’. The so-called spatial turn, originally a response to a long-standing privileging of time in the humanities and social sciences, has made explicit that we are ‘intrinsically spatial as well as temporal beings, active participants in the production and reproduction of the encompassing human geographies in which we live’ (Soja 2009: 12, but see especially Soja 1989). Our objec- tive, therefore, is not to explore how space has entered our different fields, as space was always already there, but is rather more focused on making the spa- tial in our thinking explicit. The volume intends to offer its readership with a mapping of different ways of ‘knowing’ space. The lines of its cartography are only bounded by the limits of the geographic imaginations of its authors. Indeed, as one of our contributors remarks, ‘Space is not one thing’ (Conway, this volume). ‘Space comes in many guises: points, planes, parabolas; blots, blurs and blackouts’ (Thrift 2006: 141). Space is relational, subjective and personal. Our understanding of it cor- responds to that of Doreen Massey (2008: 9) for whom space is a relative ‘product of interrelations’ connected through identities and entities that pro- vide it with directions, scale, meaning, borders and difference. According to her second preposition in For Space, it is a ‘contemporaneous plurality . . . predicated upon the existence of plurality’. Its existence, she argues, is con- tingent on those temporally moving relations that shape it by means of litera- ture, metaphors, mathematics, art and poetry. If we were to accept that space is a ‘simultaneity of stories-so-far’, which we do, then our volume should be read as a multiplicity of unfinished stories of relations. Every story, as Jean-Luc Godard famously thought, should have a begin- ning, a middle and an end, but not necessarily in that chronology. Neither should it have to take place in a fixed ‘articulated moment’ in space (Massey 1993). Where, then, to begin with a story that defies linearity and a singular objectivity? We propose not to commence with an introduction but a deliber- ately long prelude to the stories narrated in the chapters of this volume. A pre- lude conventionally refers to a practice of warming up in either anticipation or preparation for the main event. A ‘prelude to what’ I might hear you ask. This is not an unreasonable expectation because openings are not originally made to exist in and of themselves. For pianists, they are the improvisational play before the official sonata, a realm of freedom much appreciated by Chopin and his baroque kin, and for the poet it is to no extent less honest. Any prelude should be conversational with ‘ands’ and ‘withs’ as if the person telling you his or her story sat next to you telling you his or her story. Meant to be modest, unplanned and, at least by some, anticipatory of a ‘weightier’ script to come – one that is a spectacle, yes, a ‘non-event’, composed with a sense of serious
- 16. Prelude xi purpose, decorated with truth and designed for collective dissemination – a prelude shares an ephemeral, esoteric and playful quality that is easily for- gotten by the audience precisely because it is unscripted and playful. This is not to say that our chapters are fixed or scripted, endpoints or destinations – indeed, their defining quality is one of open-endedness and dance – but rather that their occurrence is characterized by their becoming rather than their being. A prelude is in this context a reference to the original meaning of ‘foreplay’ (preludere). It is an anticipation of relations in the making of play, an ode to the Homo Ludens (Huizinga 1938). A prelude deliberately postpones outcomes, sets the mythos of truth aside and leaves open gaps for new encounters, sounds, impressions and relations to emerge. It shares no purpose other than making us feel ready to abandon the order of knowledge and embrace a more playful way of interaction. Just like sunny weather, snow or rain, our prelude offers, or might even be, the necessary atmosphere for the potentiality of ‘fun’ but also ‘sadness’. It introduces dif- ferent ideas, experiences and other knowledges that are celebrated and con- nected in the stories contained, but (hopefully) not imprisoned in this volume. The practice of play is key here, but be advised that ‘playing is not something apart from reality, not a lesser state, or a rehearsal for becoming adult, and not an individualised deliberative choice as fixed molar structures of childhood, adulthood and development would have us believe’ (Lester 2013: 139). We started entertaining the idea for this volume during a workshop in May 2014. Our meeting focused on the ‘question of space’ and was intended to provide a platform for discussing how the ‘spatial turn’ influences schol- ars from across different disciplines. Unknowingly at the time, our meet- ing would not revolve around the subject of space itself but would rather quickly advance into a gradual transforming of the way we thought about space. Claims towards ‘knowing space’ clearly were not sufficient. Indeed, as Crouch (2016: 11) predicted, our conversations soon revealed that ‘what space “is” and how it occurs is crucially rendered unstable and shifting’. An acknowledgement for a qualitative understanding of distance played an important role in recognizing and respecting the heterogeneity of meanings we use for and attach to space. Our conversations demonstrated that these dis- tances were not static but dynamic, not hollow but richly filled with potential- ity; sometimes we came closer to another; sometimes we moved further into a distance. We realized, while ‘leaning-playing’ (spelenderwijs), that space is an activity, a process, a practice and an action. Much of our thinking follows in the footsteps of French thinkers such as Deleuze, Derrida and Blanchot, who, perhaps less restrained by the latent essentialism of the English language, discovered the French term espacement for transcribing space as a practice (‘spacing’) rather than a noun (‘space’). The adjective espace is the space-in-between but is also an operation of
- 17. xii Prelude distancing and contact.1 Doel (1996: 436, original emphasis), drawing on Deleuze and Guattari, teaches us that ‘there is no space without folding, and therefore no geography without origami. For every act of spacing involves an imbrication of folds’. Derrida (2004: 337) links spacing to différance, which is, as he so famously described, the ‘systematic play of differences, of traces of differences, of the spacing by means of which elements are related to each other. . . . It is also the becoming-space of the spoken chain – which has been called temporal or linear; a becoming-space which makes possible both writ- ing and every correspondence between speech and writing, every passage from one to the other’. Spacing is similar to flirting but also to playing. Each of these activities shares in common ‘a movement between order and chaos’ while constituting a ‘tension between control and chaos. Sometimes playing is voluntarily surrendering to form; sometimes it is being seduced into form, being appropriated by a plaything. Some other times, the pleasure comes from the appropriation of those forms, breaking and deforming them to play with them’ (Sicart 2014: 10, 83). All of this welcomingly emerged as a different world from the discipline that might long ago have been expected to understand space, geography, indeed human geography. Alas, this did not prove to be the case during the middle of the twentieth century, during which aspects of a humane under- standing of human geography’s space nudged forwards but were sidetracked by something very different. As Gregory (1981) and more recently Barnes and Minca (2013) have argued, things turned otherwise. Examining a case of extremes in the emerging confinement of geography, he charted the fascist- inspired work of the 1940s when state domination of developments across then Nazi Germany and beyond required state ‘efficiency’ above anything else, in the work on distances between settlements exemplified in the state- directed work of Christaller (1933). Distances between locations ‘ideal’ [sic] for human development were to be, and later assumed they could be, determined without attention to the character of human life, perfect distances for efficiency of production and distribution. These deterministic strains of attention were there to control, and the state would be aided in this by its particular kind of geography: positivistic and often of negligible engagement with humanity or human life, and, of course too, the other-than human. Not long after that time, David Harvey’s (1973) seminal work Social Jus- tice and the City extended the critique of the war-influenced geography to the wide world of capitalist accumulation and its priorities for the ways in which human beings survive. In the same year, Raymond Williams’s (1973) hugely humanistic and cultural Marxist approach jolted the discipline that claimed priority over space through his attention to a historical analysis of cultural perspective. Aligned with his attention to the overarching power of capitalism in producing capitalist space, Harvey (1989) argued that this stretched to a
- 18. Prelude xiii compression of the world in terms of spacetime: time-space compression as part of his Marxist or Marx-influenced treatise on space (expressed through the City). This grip arguably dominated life, in the city and beyond, and very much at a global level. The continuing importance of this ‘compression’ and its limitations and other overlooked components of power and influ- ence over cultural life is in evidence across a number of the chapters in this book, including those that seek its refinement, exemplified by Crouch in this volume. Similar extensions of space-time power continue to be typical of colonialism and equally the subjugation, or exclusion of sectors of the popu- lation in many countries, from majorities in the case of women to those distin- guished by ‘minority’ [sic] religious beliefs and practices, as our chapters by Ghraowi and Zivkovic demonstrate. Acutely, Moyo takes an intimately close interrogation of intertwining or commingling among more widely overarch- ing schemas of colonialism and post-colonial power and the lived and affec- tive performances, including the openly or suffusively resistant. With some frustration with this mid-century Marxist emphasis, it was these apparent occlusions of thought that did not seem to engage the close- up, felt human existence and its affects, a loose-knit and creatively thinking group of geographers pressed for a component of human geography that would attend to this lacuna, in the name of humanistic geography. A distant child of the nineteenth century, this geography rediscovered the potential of the geographer Vidal de la Blache (1926), who was among the first to use the term ‘human geography’ and to argue for its enlarged vision. His work (Gregory 1981) encapsulated in positioning the possibilities of human life in all its contents and discontents can do in relation with the environment, with more than a hint of environmental determinism. Human geography’s often incompatible philosophical orientations were mixed and included existential- ism and phenomenology. Some key proponents of the new subheading of geography focused on our everyday surroundings as humans; others found its pursuit in the terrain and territory of wealthy landowners or painterly artwork of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (Cosgrove and Daniels 1988). This mixture and orientation and yet often-limited foci did not sustain itself in the ongoing decades, except perhaps for Yi-Fu Tuan (2012), an inspirational Chinese American writer and humanistic geographer who sustained some core tenets of human relationality with the environment and its care for it, including almost spiritual colour in the ways in which human affection can work. He worked with the word and idea of place, often at issue today with regard to space, of which more will follow in this prelude. His writing is closely embraced in a range of humanities’ work today. Perhaps, surprisingly, some of the intentions that fuelled the humanistic character of geography persist, including very advanced work on philoso- phies and world views. These, as the following paragraphs elaborate, include
- 19. xiv Prelude the complexity and potentiality of all components of our planet; the multi- plicity of influences and ways of power; matters of emotion and, perhaps most significantly, affect. We suggest that these advances, clarifications and openings to acknowledging complexity have profoundly enabled the increas- ing richness of work across disciplines in understanding and articulating our relationalities in and with the world. Indeed, such is the liveliness of work around space that it emerges that knowing space comes very close to our ideas of worlding. Ploughing through several decades, human geography became aware of its cultural ‘milieu’, to remain true to Vidal de la Blache (1926), and the late twentieth-century so-called cultural turn, first through an emphasis on representational space, more recently to interplay global reach with the ‘lived’ character of space, acknowledging the complexity of lived culture and questioning the negative privileging of capitalist space, concerns and insights taken up in the chapters of this collection (Cook et al. 2000), exemplified by the so-called non-representational geography that has swept through numer- ous disciplines over twenty years as a turn to how we ‘perform’ space, in a multiple, nuanced and complex activity (Thrift 2008). A caveat to this label is made by the anthropologist Csordas (1994: 10), who marked a critical concern regarding the overemphatic term by making clear that ‘it will not do to identify what we are getting at with a negative term’. The term floundered on the continuing importance and unavoidable relevance of representations and thus of representational work, as Ghraowi, Moyo and Conway in this volume demonstrate, making the so-called other-than representational work an important partner. By the present century a wide range of disciplines had come to highlight the important and multi-relational energies of human performativity and cultural context. In anthropology, for example, important contributions to understand- ing the lively and complex character of the what, how and where of space engaged the work of Tim Ingold (2011). Perhaps, surprisingly for us, Ingold insists on the ultimate and isolated abstract character of ‘space’, if it has any character at all, and distinguishes it from ‘place’, in a way that resembles Heidegger’s attachment of belonging, long duration and near-permanence of home, of home-place, in German, Heimat (1996). Ingold’s book Being Alive indeed carries a chapter challengingly entitled ‘Against Space’ (2011). The place-minded philosopher Edward Casey follows a similar path. He prefers ‘place’ to ‘space’ too, as a word or term more able to engage life: ‘Bodies and places are connatural terms. They interanimate each other’ (1997: 24). As we come to discover in this volume, space may better be considered as something very much embroiled with life and our performativity, indeed as a combination of all affectivities, rather than space being a separate, almost isolated and abstract element or ‘thing’. In this Casey, like Ingold, makes
- 20. Prelude xv provocative reading alongside early twentieth-century Japanese philosophy discussed in the chapter in this volume by Watanabe. Presently in this prelude to our chapters we return to the complexity, fre- quent interchangeability and confusion among efforts clearly to distinguish what are often considered bedrock concerns of geography, space and place, with a recovery of most recent debate. Meantime, the immediately following considerations breathe a different air in the form of humanities’ own progress. Sally Ness (2016), another anthropologist, in this case of performance in particular, articulates the importance of performance and its performativities among representations in the importance of feeling space, through the idea of landscape-in-performance, in choreographies and signs of performance in getting around Yosemite National Park. In cultural studies complexities and nuances featured significantly in an early collection, Mapping the Futures, whose crucial subheading significantly presents connections as ‘Local cul- tures, global change’ (Bird et al. 1993). Perhaps the most significant anthropologist working now with the atten- tion of numerous disciplines is Kathleen Stewart. One of her books, A Space on the Side of the Road (Stewart 1996), addresses the feeling of liv- ing among poor individuals and families in the ‘hollers’ of West Virginia. In her writing she wrests ‘cultural representation free of the very claim to problem-solving absolute knowledge’ (ibid.: 23). She works from what local people speak of, netting the myriad components of their lives in open conversations and observations. She works their lived relational networks, from press observations, challenges they face, crises and hopes they endure, the feel of dust and the coping with others, government, memory of diverse and multiple pasts and more. She seeks across her work to capture the expe- rienced real that, she feels and that we too feel, representational work has too often failed to reach, to evoke. As Crouch in this volume observes, her attention is addressed to the felt process and practice of worlding: the way things occur through which individuals and collectivities make their lives and how it feels to do so; netting but never entrapping them in her writing or her reasoning, the myriad affects, or affective character that swirls into and among individuals’ lives. Geographer Robin Longhurst expresses similarly to strands of Stewart’s ideas in an evocation of the ‘messiness’ of bodies as well as the multitude materiality of the intimate world around us, and beyond (Longhurst 2001). To acknowledge the fact of messiness is much closer to understanding the real than a positivist or dogmatic direct liner of flight. A challenging of ‘Cartesian perspectivalism’ (Jay 2013, chapter 9) is also the task of Nieuwenhuis’s chapter on the invisible but punitive lines that make up international politics. What about the terra of territory? Instead, materiality, affect, atmosphere and active relationality operate centrally in this process of worlding.
- 21. xvi Prelude A component of the complexity, often appearing as messiness, in these recent flows of human and social geography, for some time now having distinguished itself from the ‘humanistic’ sort, is the increasingly prominent awareness of the mutuality of affect among the embroiled human and other- than-human life, and beyond that, the wider materiality, much influenced by the now acute and almost pervasive awareness of matters of environmental risks and vulnerabilities as well as threats, emphatically handled in the con- tribution by Martin Gren that engages recent developments of the idea of the contemporary era termed the ‘Anthropocene’ (Crutzen 2006), in this volume. Other fluid strands remain in intense debate. Nieuwenhuis, for instance, addresses the relationship between the study and practice of politics and the oftentimes assumed but too little analysed ‘geo’ in the study and field of geo- politics. His chapter focuses on the materiality of politics and offers an analy- sis that is situated amid a growing body of similar approaches that attempt to reconnect politics to its physical foundations (see e.g. Yusoff et al. 2012). As already noted, the sociologist John Urry engaged in difficult questions concerning space (1985) although he came to be more focused on ideas of place, that he aligned with practices, processes and structures of consumption (see e.g. Urry 1995). In doing so, Urry closed in on the power of consump- tion in representation. Since then there have been many interventions that have opened the idea of consumption in terms of both other-than market- directed and composed presentations to bring together, on the one hand more life-centred explanations of ‘consumption’ exemplified by Miller’s (2008) writing in The Comfort of Things. Cocker’s (2007) writing, through her conceptual-practical interventions in art theory, which continue to surprise through her explorations of moving in the city, and Crouch’s chapter in this volume, where painting, far from necessarily being considered merely as a representational concern, are examples of performativity. Ann Game (1991, but also Metcalfe and Game 2008) comes close to our concerns in her socio- logical writing of experiencing space, in ways that embroil memory, context, representations and performativity. The occurrence of space latterly has come to engage dance and perfor- mance studies in making sense of the performative relation between move- ment, poise and their surroundings as space (Hunter 2015). In her writing, Hunter articulates a movement, a becoming from space and culture into place. The theatre director Peter Brook as long ago as 1968 opened his book on The Empty Space: ‘I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage. A man [sic] walks across this empty space while someone is watching him and this is all I need for an act of theatre to be engaged’ (Brook 1972: 11). Therefore, that space becomes animated in the relationships, the relationality of things. Architectural theory is animated through attention to the feeling(s) of space (Andersson 2012). In George Revill’s chapter in this volume he
- 22. Prelude xvii displays no doubt in the affectivity of sounds, human, other-than-human and otherwise apparently ‘inert’ materiality happening in relationality. Sound, an essentially spacing medium, can both strengthen existing and create new feelings of shared kinship among old and new friends (see also the chapters in Bell 2016). The recent appearance of the journal Literary Geographies exemplifies further the move, or turn, to the ‘liveliness’ of things. In her book Liter- ary Geographies Sheila Hones writes of fiction as ‘usefully understood as a geographic event, a dynamic unfolding collaboration happening in time and space’ (2014: 32). The recent appearance of the journal Geohumanities embraces a wide range of concerns, from ethnographic fieldwork to territory and works at the intersections of geography and widely across the humani- ties. The recently new journal Humanities has featured space-engaged special issues with particular emphasis on the spatial turn in the arts and humani- ties, for example, Deep Mapping (Roberts 2016). The journals contribute to making the revitalization of which Hones (2014) speaks. Increasingly, the webbing of humanities, the social sciences and geography, here including cross-overs with anthropology, becomes fascinatingly rich, crossing territory and terrain, everyday life’s feelings and their mutual engagement with the whole span of the arts. Across our disciplines space is increasingly understood in terms of spaces lived, performatively carved rather than representational and outside of human and other-than-human material participation, thus bringing repre- sentations and wider contexts into their own liveliness. A number of recent contributions to these debates seek explanation of space through the work of French thinker Gilles Deleuze, pertinently worked through diverse chapters in Buchanan and Lambert’s (2005) Deleuze and Space. Their journey closes with ‘What the Earth Thinks’, by Lambert, that resonates with, for example, the chapters by Watanabe and Gren in the present volume. This brief atten- tion to some of the increasingly numerous and diverse contributions on the question of space in no way seeks to document a complete story, but rather to breathe the air of diversity and its multiple connections, that provide a pool of lively debate to which our collection of original chapters both respond and advance. Space, particularly its geography, often collides with an idea of mapping. Mapping was, of course, for a long time considered in terms of military and expeditional (often closely related) marking of territory: accuracy, assertive and intentionally permanent. In many cases, its importance as imprint on land in all its forms and character remains. Increasingly, there is attention to maps as multiple, contested; fluid and always ‘in the making’ in what they have to say concerning land and space (Roberts 2012). Since Harley’s (2002) groundbreaking interventions, maps are not contained merely within
- 23. xviii Prelude objectivity and emerge, for example, through film, sound and literature. The British writer Ian Sinclair (2012: 85) writes of his personal journeys walking around, for example, the ‘nether regions’ off the London outer ring road or bypass, the M25. He discusses what he calls a ‘map’ as ‘a very generalised form of a scrapbook or a cabinet of curiosities that includes written texts and a lot of photographs’. He identifies the growing interest across disciplines in literature and its poetic imagination: ‘drawing on forms of memory, language, mapping, anthropology . . . wanting to dissolve the boundaries that have held these to a rigid scholarly discipline’ (ibid.: 95). His maps-in-writing become evocative, expressive rather than representational, but move on in the reader to be both. Similarly, the ‘maps’ created in the project Parish Maps by the environmental charity Common Ground included a series of exemplar maps by artists, painterly and graphic images of features, memories, moments per- formed in life, among groups of individuals in expression of what matters to them where they live (Crouch and Matless 1996). With Sinclair, it is possible to say that maps of or as expressions of space, like everyday geographies, emerge in our practical ontologies, with the potential of being poetic and gently political, in an intimate way. More recently Campbell (2016) has rewritten the ways in which we understand the purpose and may ‘read’ a map through an attention to the mapping of space in terms of understanding the region, long considered to be demarcated territory. The region and its mapped space become fluid, erupt in performativity participated by human and other-than-human lives across mul- tiple trajectories of time, exemplified in Muecke’s multiple artwork across once Aboriginal territories in Australia, where region, like space, becomes affectively alive (Campbell 2016). Massumi’s (2002) writing on affect in terms of its openness and potentiality, moving beyond the fixed (as it were by institutional recognition and containment), static and bounded. Space becomes spacing, verbalized, part-constituted in our living. In so doing, exemplified by Sinclair and Muecke and others, making a map, marking the space, expresses something of our world that we value or may disdain, in a performative and reflective process of worlding that includes materiality, both living, as in the other-than human, and the inert as well as our similar others. We could consider something called ‘landscape’ to be the poetic expressivity of space (Crouch 2010). Space then emerges as more ‘along-the- way’, that is, the numerous, multiple performative acts, of multiple sensuous relationality in the atmospheres – affects, memories, intimate and widely felt significances – of our individual, if shared, worlds. Now, perhaps more than ever, the spatial turn is premised on a will to deconstruct space in the humanities, the social sciences and, indeed, other bodies of institutionalized knowledge, by disembedding and foreground- ing space as a category of knowing and experience. A turning to space, as
- 24. Prelude xix Thrift (2006: 140) writes, ‘opens up whole new worlds by making it possible to write about life without falling back into a romantic quest for a place of safety and about society without falling back on to static categories and about knowledge of being without falling back on the recondite’. Thrift’s message helps remind us that we should not forget that the spatial turn starts with a focus on materiality. Space is ‘not a Euclidean given; it is a materiality which we always experience both temporally and through a number of beliefs and practices’ (Gilbert 2009: 103). The idea that power and knowledge are embedded and experienced in material and discursive geographies, as exemplified in the work of, for instance, Foucault and Lefebvre, is now accepted without too much contro- versy. One example is Foucault’s writings about the ‘spaces of unreason’ and ‘spaces of reason’ and their encounter during the European Enlighten- ment (Philo 1999). We agree with Doel’s assertion that ‘one cannot think without “spacing”, nor can one space without “thinking”’ (2000: 123), but we also find truth in Crang and Thrift’s (2000: 1) contention that in ‘all dis- ciplines, space is a representational strategy’. It is not enough, however, to conclude that all knowledge is materially situated, because not all knowledge is situated equally (Haraway 1988). Instead, we would do well to study how knowledge is materially situated and analyse the ways we are located in this knowledge. After all, the disrupting, uprooting and displacing of disciplinary knowledges on space were among the primary motivations for the event of our coming together that ultimately would result in this book. Our meeting, the source of inspiration for this edited collection, was an encounter that took place on the abstract assumption of disciplinary differ- ence. The announcement of an ‘interdisciplinary’ event attracted scholars from a variety of situated knowledges, who, through the process of conver- sation and discussion, found their disciplinary subjectivity geographically transported into the in-between space of separation and contact on discus- sions on the role of space in their work. This process of ‘deterritorialization’ enabled a dissembling of bordered and fixed understandings about space and materiality. A decentring of thinking about the word ‘space’ and the truth claims and knowledges we attach to it brought about a departure from the fixity of our own historical situatedness and, with that very act, provided the possibility of play. The meeting functioned therefore very much like this prelude in that it offered a playground in which the meaning and experience of space can no longer be reduced to one single category or agency. Space is no longer ‘this’ or ‘that’, dependent and confined to disciplinary knowledge, but instead becomes multiple, differential, personal, experiential and playful. Of course, we do not merely refer to the conceptual here, as space can, as said, never be detached from materiality. Our meeting, in an unintentional and unplanned manner, created a non-conventional ‘academic space’, which,
- 25. xx Prelude as we related to another and to the things around us, facilitated the emergence of play. We can call this space ‘virtual’ or name it an ‘interface’, which serves as a point of relation that brings difference together and one ‘through which differences and distinctions . . . come to be measured and qualified’ (Ash 2016: 16). Our choice of words here is not accidental because the practice of spacing shares an intimate relationship to both the virtual and the interface. Ash (2016: 140, 141) writes that in ‘screen-based environments’ there is ‘no “space” or “time”. . . . There are only processes of spacing or timing, where something such as space or time appears as a particular kind of phenomenon through the construction of relations or relations and non-relations between objects that make up the interface’. Perhaps this explains why ‘play and computers get along so well’ (Sicart 2014: 7). However, while undoubtedly engaging virtuality in this sense (rather than in Deleuze’s virtual in terms of the ever-open potentiality of things) adjusts the lived engagement in our worlds as it does our embodied feeling and affective representations we may engage, the character or nature of adjustments involved remains unclear. This uncertainty occurs particularly in terms of the act of remaining in the everyday inhabited world much or most of the time (we are awake), currently unavoidable. As the philosopher Jeff Malpas (2008: 23) asserts, ‘One’s inter- action with the (virtual) game is itself dependent upon its physical located- ness’: the chair we sit on, the room or outdoor site we may occupy; the other material realms in which we pass time, the memories that flicker as the game is played. Space, time and their spacetimes cannot sustain their isolation. One of the points that Belibou’s contribution brings to light is the impor- tance of affect or intensities in the interface of the World Wide Web. His contribution on the three vertical layers of the Internet, that is, surface web, the deep web and the Darknet, shows how spatial and temporal virtual expe- riences depend on their physical infrastructure. The two worlds interconnect in indeterminate ways and overlap at unpredictable junctions. His analysis provides an excellent example of how ‘thinking through affect’ can help us towards the ‘realm of the virtual . . . that is organized differently but is inseparable from the concrete activity and expressivity of the body’ (Mas- sumi 1995: 91). Bissell (2010: 83) writes that ‘thinking through affect . . . not only decentres the body from analysis but also liberates it from the notion of a singular, predictable and fixed trajectory’. Affect, as said, is an important means for understanding how the body lives and experiences space, but it is also significant for grasping how it remembers it. Affect is in this more explicitly temporal sense a relation between bodies over the identity of space. Zivkovic’s, Moyo’s, Crouch’s and Revill’s chapters, each in distinctively different ways, attend to the workings of memory and its accomplice time, in refracting, moulding, separating, crumpling and shading space and our role vis-à-vis space and spaces. The importance of discovering
- 26. Prelude xxi how space is memorized is demonstrated in Ghraowi’s reading of Ghassan Kanafani’s Returning to Haifa which echoes Deleuze’s (2008: 38) oft-cited phrase that the ‘past does not represent something that has been, but simply something that is and that coexists with itself as present’. Ghraowi’s analysis of trauma, as a spatial and bodily affect, is situated in Palestinian experiences of the horrors of the Nakba and the 1967 Arab–Israeli War. He uses the cat- egory of traumatic neurosis in Kanafani’s literature to show the ways in which relationship between the Palestinian body (individually as well as collectively) and its space blurs, ‘implodes’, experiences from the past and from the present. Ghraowi’s account confronts Bachelard’s love of particular sites of being that he selects. Bachelard’s (1994) poetic attention is often replicated in terms of the attachment and belonging that we may feel for particular sites of our being, and becoming. In Ghraowi, in the subject of his writing, a very different affect is unscrambled. The result is a distressing neurotic condition in which body, memory and experience are interrelated and inseparable in determining the ‘whatness’ of the space that surrounds and constitutes us. This returns us once more to the issue of materiality and the problem of knowing space. Nieuwenhuis is interested in the way International Relations (IR) does space. His deconstruction of IR’s ‘representational strategy’, or, if we were to follow Henri Lefebvre (1991), ‘space of representation’, looks at the conceptual and historical emergence of the relation and discrepancy between materiality (terra) and the category of territory. His analysis, which takes place in a growing discussion on the materiality of territory (e.g. Peters, Steinberg and Stratford forthcoming), shows that IR’s knowledge of space comes forth from a specific historical imagining of materiality. He takes us on a journey to the emergence and evolution of this peculiar, yet distinctively modern relationship to materiality, a relationship built not on intimacy but on representations and enactments. Just as Ghraowi’s writing here treats space relationally, so, we note, he does time, rolled into spacetimes of anguish in remembrance. Similarly does Zivkovic, in her discussion of bel hooks’s felt inherited prejudices of colour and gender reworked over generations of her families. In her account of hooks’s writing, she engages the idea of writing as spatialized memory work, a search of rediscovery and repositioning. hooks’s past and pasts are always open to being reworked, even transformed. It is unsurprising that if we under- stand space as fluid, mutable, then time and spacetimes have similar character too: they do not remain static. Spacetime is, and spacetimes are, constantly available for reworking. Spacetimes cannot be stamped into immortality, just as efforts to privilege heritage are unable to do so. For example, heritage is negative and positive, and frequently can be thought in terms of particular pasts and past spaces held onto. In contradistinction, heritage may be theo- rized as lived, embodied alive in our doing.
- 27. xxii Prelude Formal historic representations may attempt to fix heritage and a prescribed value upon it, yet that heritage is drawn through our contemporary performa- tive living, as Crouch considers with regard to food cultivation in particular cir- cumstances of inherited collective tradition and concern for the environment. Moyo inscribes such fixing–unfixing of heritage in her encounter with dance in the still-present shadow of apartheid; the time capsule may be leaky. Our lived memory of visits to particular sites may be coloured, perhaps transformed, through later visits, whether to the same site and its remembered, unsealed spacetime or to other sites with which unconscious comparisons may be made. Similarly, different values become associated with different sites, and those values may with similar repetitions be mutually affective and affected. Our lived practice, along with the flicker of random representations, may merge or contrast each of these. Our efforts to order these myriad attachments or distor- tions may or may not succeed. Feelings of belonging and its longing become uncertain, and change colour, but some may hold. Loss may be unavoidable yet may be resuscitated. Memory emerges as a movable feast. Reflecting on Bachelard’s philosophical musings on his intimately drawn spaces, sociolo- gists Anne Game and Metcalfe (2008) identify the combination of ‘I know this already’ and ‘this feels new’, engaging pasts anew in the present. Our remembered, adjusted moments of heritage become embroiled in our presents. Campbell’s (2016) accounts of regionality-as-spacetimes is constituted in, for example, the writer Rebecca Solnit’s deep personal reflections, the anthro- pologist Muecke’s gathering and garnering of cultures’ practices and almost memorial-making and Kathleen Stewart’s anthropological fictive realism. While each of these approaches deploys an engagement with individu- als’ pasts, they do so in a way that acknowledges the mixing of moments in memory, their often roughly sculpting through life and being open to further semi-conscious adjustments in the present moment, perhaps more important than isolated time, duration, as inscribed by Bergson (1912/2007), as we can crack into time and disrupt its momentum, its rhythms through what we do, serendipitously and sometimes intentionally. Spacetimes become mobility in their qualitative multiplicity of open possibility. They present the very vital- ity of which Massumi has cogently argued (2002). The term ‘spacetimes’ restores the equity of relationship between space and time, much overlooked by Bergson’s privileging of time. Memory is not simply ‘placed’ in a feeling of linear time but jogged and jostled among our inflections and affectivities of other journeys we make through living. Living and our journeying space- times are creative and affective of creativity; our creativity can be affective of spacetimes, too. Although his attention was directed at the explicitly politi- cal, we can relate Massumi’s notion of ‘new circuits of causality’ (1993: 36) to the potentialities and multiplicities of spacetimes and their affectivities. Tracking through each chapter is a vital sense of the work of affectivities and their effects on and of the commingling multiply global and multiply local
- 28. Prelude xxiii practices and performance; identity and belonging, disorientation and alien- ation; sadness and buoyancy; values, attitudes and life and its materiality. Is there a structure to our play? Are there rules to follow? Or, are the chapters arranged deliberately unsystematically for play to flourish? A bit of both per- haps? We offer neither start nor finish, but a few rules are necessary for play to be possible. We move from the intimate flirting with space (Crouch) to the performing of it (Moyo), its sounds (Revill) and the belonging to (Zivkovic) and longing for place (Ghraowi) to the reimagining of potential place (Wata- nabe), its political form (Nieuwenhuis), the possibility and impossibility of its virtuality (Belibou) to atmospheres as media and conditions for life (Con- way), and we give our last voice to the Earth (Gren). Is there a structure, a little surely, but not so much as to impose, just enough only to facilitate play? Along the way, several chapters connect with often taken-as-parallel notion of place alongside space, prompting further critical thought on why their often habitual distinctions are presented. With Deleuze and Guattari (1988/2013) as well as, though differently imagined, Massey (2008), space and spacetimes become ever open in their dynamic character, and relationships of place, its fixity and long duration and the fluidity of space become adequately held within the notion of space, as our relationship with what we call space is itself changing, at once full of reassurance and at the next uncertain. Doubtless, the common, everyday currency of the word ‘place’ survives and will continue to do so, but through the idea of space it is possible to contain variability and diversity and avoid the duality of things (Deleuze and Guattari 1988/2013; Massey 2008; Crouch 2010). Yet Deleuze and Guattari (ibid.) install another duality, of smooth and striated space. Their ‘striated space’ is the product of overarching power and control, and engenders order, domination and surveil- lance. Their terms of smooth space, however, render openness and potential- ity, emphatically the product of freedom, thus another way that they invite in hope. Another potential way of thinking space through, in a way that is able to contain both the inevitable openness and fluidity of space and its poten- tial democracy, is without engaging a third separate character for space, to consider all human dealings with/of space as a striating process, the marks of individuals and collectivities caring, recoverable and playful rather than fixed and dominating (see Crouch 2010). For the ways in which space works, we leave to the depths of the chapters themselves. NOTE 1. Derrida writes that ‘like dissemination, like difference, it [ie. l’espacement] carries along with it a genetic motif: it is not only the interval, the space constituted between two things . . . but also spacing, the operation, or in any event, the movement of setting aside’ (Derrida 1981: 106, n. 42).
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- 34. 1 Multidisciplinary work on the so-called spatial turn prompts the thought of how space occurs, whether it simply, a priori, exists, a grid that fastens us down. Maybe ‘it’ is something that we play with. Somewhat echoing Hallam and Ingold’s writing on creativity, space occurs (2007). That is, it is always unstable and fluid to a greater or lesser degree: open, of potential (Massey 2005). As individuals, we contribute to its coalescence as something with meaning. In this chapter I consider the character of its occurrence or emer- gence, sustainability and grasp or comprehension. Crucially, space is consid- ered as a human process in spacing, rather than an abstract ‘thing’. My focus is less on so-called broader contexts, culture and such, though they simmer. Instead, attention is on the contexts that are what humans render space, along with the swirls of influences and affects in which we live, the other-than human and broader materiality; something fleshy with varying degrees of closure and openness over time. Deleuze and Guattari’s ideas of the participatory character of spacing provide a leitmotif to this way of thinking, as will emerge shortly. Space occurs through lived practice and the relations of self, collectively, relating with others and among the spaces of practice that might now be considered in terms of affects and atmospheres. Arguably, most geographical knowledge, for example, occurs in living, shaped, perhaps even at times suppressed by academic lines of thought. Individuals in their everyday lives participate in a wide variety of creativity, participating, not merely affected by. As Stewart remarks: ‘Things flash up – little worlds, bad impulses, events alive with some kind of charge’ (2007: 68). Stewart considers, in the liveliness of description, the affective character of living, not its emotions with that particularly psychological pull, often subdividing each one, but in feeling, Chapter 1 Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities David Crouch
- 35. 2 Chapter 1 inchoately gathered: for this discussion, how space feels and may matter as it makes or breaks relations and opens or obfuscates potentialities. Indeed, disciplines over recent years articulate increasingly fruitful mutual, distinctive engagement. Such a shared orientation is exemplified in work around space, as a focus and critical provocation. The chapter emphasizes the interactive character of space at work across this multiplicity of merging cat- egories in the refiguring of geography across and shared by many disciplines (Crouch and Matless 1996; Crouch 2010). Moreover, of course, it is neces- sary to reflect critically on the role of ‘givens’, what is often taken to be the sum of culture, that partly contextualize but do not dominate or determine but flicker across individuals’ lives intersubjectively with and through affective power. Power emerges in the everyday living too, in what emerges as gentle politics. Our doings, relations, identities and negotiations also constitute and give character to the web or dynamic that is culture. Another commingling, another resistance or avoidance, another creativity occurs. Thus, the liveli- ness of space is dynamic: iterative, variously felt, existing. In confronting a more open, lived, human and beyond-the-human character of space, it is necessary, en route, to confront the old, yet still-existing duality of space and place. These cornerstones of traditional geographical thought are part of the necessary multidisciplinary reconfiguration of space. Ingold held on to a Heideggerian distinction of space-place, as one relatively external, the other something relatively fixed and enduring, closed up and situated in liv- ing, and he seeks to avoid ‘space’ as operating in and through people’s living: travellers make their way through the country, not through space; they walk and stand on the ground (2011: 145). While the engagement of the world to which he refers is welcome, the rejection of space within our living creates questions of the human and space. Moreover, as Grosz interprets, people do not live in cities, but in networks of contacts, sites, memories and doings of lively interaction (1999). Still David Harvey’s conceptualization of time-space compression haunts much critical geographical thinking and beyond, yet while acknowledging the continued importance it holds in terms of shaping, if not producing and constructing, space, for example, in Mitchell’s acute analysis of lives and spaces of singular capitalist control (2003). There are increasingly noted other components and dimensions of those constitutions of space that have become increasingly acknowledged. For example, at the other extreme of thinking, the poetic philosopher Gaston Bachelard’s attention focused on the gentle inten- sities of small spaces: cupboards, huts, nests, corners (1994). These familiar indoor sites enabled him close intimacy with their form and the atmosphere that he felt. They do, of course, avoid wider-in-the-world attention, however. In working through these considerations, as Stewart posits, feeling is important, in a way that in her writing takes us away from a close hold of
- 36. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 3 psychological formations and further out into the world. Moreover Erin Manning argues: ‘This feeling – with its proprioceptive, immediately linked to our sense of balance, to our ability to space (emphasis mine) space. We don’t need to put our hands on the walls to feel them, or to touch the ground to know where it is. Touch crossed with vision and sound fields the environ- ment, opening it to the relational multiplicity of movement, sensation, and space-time co-mingling’ (2009: 49). Memory, across diverse and multiple spacetimes, can be jogged into new affectivities in the performative, perhaps more than in the performance (Crouch 2003). Numerous multiple outward contexts flicker and nudge, not as primary or privileged, our living, our ever- fluid memory, imagination and dreaming desires; this moment – these are all contexts that roll moment to moment and gather and break. Manning takes this approach further: ‘(A) feels the world. Watch her read- ing a book: she touches it, puts her face into it, listens to the pages rustling, smells it, looks at it. Becoming – bodies feel – with the world. Feeling – with is not without thought. It is a force for thought. Don’t mistake feeling with emotion. Emotion is the rendering of an affect, feeling is its force’ (2009, 219). Movement is foregrounded not as displacement but as felt intensity. Indeed, Merriman attends to the idea of movement-space, ontologies of rhythm, affect and movement (2013). Rhythm is the emergent quality of felt intensity, a mov- ing towards of duration itself. Emma Cocker, stimulating art theorist, observes: ‘Affect is not understood by reading about, rather reading is a constitutive practice within which affect is enacted, its flow is felt’ (2013: 23): the spirit of feeling, life and flow. Cocker, Manning and Stewart, each in distinctive ways, enable a dialogical relationality in the way space is thought: in diverse multiple atmospheres, not scales or layering in the sense of consecutively settled strata, but sliced, dripping and chopped into each other, commingling perhaps. My interpretations of the occurrence of space emerge from an early frus- tration with the ways in which especially geography deleted human life and its wider relations except for its statistical possibilities; distance triumphed over living; Euclidian space. However, over several decades now there has been what we might term a ‘human’ turn, towards getting closer to the lived experience of attitudes, values, practices, where space takes a multitude of roles, and the understanding arises not mainly from geography but from an increasing commingling of disciplines.1 Of course, in more recent time there has been a more generous engagement and inclusion of other-than human life and wider materiality too (Lorimer 2006). In the following sections I engage in a discussion informed by several investigations that seek to draw forwards those aspects of space in living practices, with an attention to the work of memory and multiple affectivi- ties that are both human and other-than human, and feature what might be mistaken for trivial materialities. The content develops in a way to try and
- 37. 4 Chapter 1 articulate something of the ways in which we participate in how space occurs. In doing so, components of anthropology and others increasingly mutually engaged with arts literature, including performance alongside other disci- plines, are conjoined in their closer attention to human and other-than human lived character and energy. My investigations include allotment gardening, caravanning and aspects of doing tourism, of being tourist; the making of community maps and diverse work in the arts, and into the particular space-practice of professional artists, most notably Peter Lanyon (Crouch and Toogood 1999). Two of these inves- tigations are focused. The first is a particular aspect of culture and cultivation in the form of allotment, or community gardening. For example, allotments appeal because they challenge the earlier geographical focus on an idea of ‘landscape’, human–other relations, feelings and freedoms. Landscape, for example, became conceptualized several decades ago as something of paintings in a depictive form of correspondence, of heavily invested layouts ‘designed’ typically in so-called ‘great’ [sic] estates of the landed. Allotments present a popular participation through which the multiple ways of practice, values, meanings and affectivities affect how space can occur through their distinctive atmospheres literally and figuratively ‘on the ground’, in ways that resist avoidance of the wider rhythms and pulses beyond the human. The second consideration turns to ways in which particular approaches to under- standing the making of art throw different insights into how human and other- than-human affectivities emerge and become affective, along with memory, in the occurrence of space. I consider the artist here as primarily a human being, living and feeling. I introduce insights from these works along the way. In each of these investigations, a central source is in what is said and how. While we may contest the ways in which individuals may seek to express or report their responses in feelings, intensity and so on, my emphases offer one way in which to progress understanding. In one final prelude to the depth enquiries, I burrow briefly into two threads of profound attention to the question of the workings of space, in Deleuze and Guattari (2004) and in Massey (2005). These leitmotifs are developed through a critique of other strands of space-thinking, drawing attention towards the character of space in relation to work on atmospheres and affects through the relational term ‘affectivities’, particularly of Stewart. This discussion is done dynamically through the texture of empirical inves- tigations, community gardening and painting as space-process. In this way the chapter seeks to draw through, to draw out, connections of the liveliness of atmospheres in the generative process of spacing. Taking up once again insights from the two investigations, the chapter continues to examine these themes by engaging a consideration of feelings, values and attitudes in the idea of gentle politics, again cross-examining such an approach alongside
- 38. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 5 the key prominent discussions of space considered in the following section. Emerging from these sections the chapter closes with reflections back across the character of affectivities, atmosphere and space in our living. FROM SPACE Working from Massey’s positioning of space to be always contingently related in flows, energies and the liveliness of things, always in construction (2005), rather than fixed and certain, directs attention to individuals’ lives relationally in the world. Taking up more closely Deleuze and Guattari’s notion of spacing being affected by the energy gaps between things brings us closer to the affective character of space’s occurrence and its spacetimes content. Space becomes highly contingent, emergent in the cracks of everyday life, affected by and affecting energies both human and beyond human limits. Spacing has the potential, or in its language potentiality, to be constantly open to change, becoming rather than settled (Deleuze and Guattari 2004). Individuals’, participants’ relations with space happen uncertainly, are not predominantly overwhelmed While trying to hold onto identities and feel- ing of space in their lives open to becoming. Merriman questions the revival of timespace in geography as a return more to structuralist thought (2013). Yet in the form of spacetimes it is possible to rethink in terms of memory in present feeling, for example, reworked, reimagined, bent in, by and through the character of particular atmospheres and so on. Through the philosophical work of Deleuze and Guattari, a generative frame of thinking emerges that is open in the character of deploying a flexible, open and more multiple notion of subjectivity that does not see the world as human-centred but human- participative. Such an ‘open’ subjectivism enables engagement of the non- human in the multiple energies, actions and mutual affects that commingle with human lives that take us beyond the bounds of human subjectivity but do not completely lose touch with it. Massey and Deleuze are positioned in different ways: Massey crucially in a Marxist position and Deleuze particularly influenced by Marxism yet work- ing beyond it to a post-Marxian and post-constructionist position that can be read as constructivist (Burkitt 1999). Yet their more recent takes on space begin to offer more correspondence, if obliquely, than this distinction might imply. The particular treatment of Deleuze’s space perhaps therefore tends towards a more open potentiality within an overarching political system, speaking more of the work of what he called ‘smooth space’, yet discusses its occurrence in highly abstract terms (op. cit.). However, Massey (1994) writes elsewhere of how knowing a familiarity of a locality, tending to imply
- 39. 6 Chapter 1 its occurrence over protracted spacetime, social networks, in everyday doings and possibly prompted by external efforts to change components of that familiarity, produces a feeling that she incorporates into a notion of place, yet the place remains in contention, not fixed. Her main attention, as Deleuze and Guattari, is on the wider flows of affective energy, although Massey inquired more persistently into the institutional. Rather than grasp meaning of processes of, in or through space as emer- gent principally between and across major scale, corporate and institutional assemblages, a close consideration of the affectivities swirling in everyday living renders an openness to the once-habitually overlooked (especially, perhaps in geography, also cultural studies) significance of ‘normal’, every- day, or ‘lay’ (none of which adequately expresses) human and other life in all their discontents. Discussion includes reflection on a ‘gentle politics’ emer- gent in the power of individuals creatively to engage, experience, feel, create meaning, adjust and challenge their attitudes and values and those of others. Spacing and its occurrence are creative and political in these categories of the everyday as well as in other registers. Our idea of space or place as constant is considered in relation to the steadying and shifting that occur in individuals’ and collectivities’ living. To capture some sense of these commingling events at work, the following pages consider not fixity in characterizing spacetimes but an opening to affectivities, change and security that explore the character of living spacetime through a number of threads that connect everyday liv- ing and our feeling and thinking. It serves as a means to articulate life in its negotiation, adjustment, disorientation and becoming. This approach delivers a space-character through the notion of multiple active participation in spacing, prompted by Kathleen Stewart’s (2011: 445) ‘atmospheres’: Attention to the charged atmospheres of everyday life. . . . How circulating forces are generated as atmospheres per se, how they spawn worlds, animate forms of attachment and detachment, and become the live background of liv- ing in and living through things. Writing through several small cases selected out of countless potentially describable moments and scenes in which the sense of something happening becomes tactile, I try to open a proliferative list of questions about how forces come to reside in experiences, conditions, things, dreams, landscapes, imaginaries, and lived sensory moments. How do people dwelling in them become attuned to the sense of something coming into exis- tence or something waning, sagging, dissipating, enduring, or resonating with what is lost or promising? I suggest that atmospheric attunements are palpable and sensory yet imaginary and uncontained, material yet abstract. They have rhythms, valences, moods, sensations, tempos, and varied and changing lifes- pans. They can pull the senses into alert or incite distraction or denial.
- 40. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 7 Atmosphere is multiple and full of volume, as Anderson articulated in his seminal paper (2009). And so is space. Stewart’s articulation, rather than abstractions, of atmospheres appeals because of her sometimes poetic han- dling and relating of numerous elements occurring in existence: global, inti- mate. As Anderson précised Dufrenne’s position from phenomenology: ‘The atmosphere of an aesthetic object discloses the space-time of an “expressed world” – it does not re-present objective space-time or lived space-time. It creates a space of intensity that overflows a represented world organized into subjects and objects or subjects and other subjects. Instead, it is through an atmosphere that a represented object will be apprehended and will take on a certain meaning. Examples abound in Dufrenne’s writings; a feeling of emptiness communicated by a chilling verse, a tragic feeling in Macbeth, or the motionless opacity of Cezanne’s landscapes’ (ibid.: 79; Dufrenne 1973 [1953]). I am not so sure about Cezanne’s paintings’ opacity and will come to consider this later in this chapter in terms of more explicit and perhaps also energetic works of the artist Lanyon, abstractions rather than abstract, felt rather than merely conceptual. In the discussion that follows, I consider a wider and deeper and less classically aesthetically considered aesthetic of the everyday as lived that goes beyond Dufrenne. Atmosphere, as Anderson identified, is indeterminate, but what ‘matters’ in feeling and in meaning is how the atmosphere is actually lived, engaged and made some sense of, its affectivity, however incomplete and skewed through experience – and feeling (Anderson 2009). Atmosphere is surely three dimensional and trans-historical, widely politi- cal yet locates itself, but in the feeling of life that we can be half aware of, perhaps know, human beings in everyday living, human beings but not human centred. And, of course, atmospheres change multiply, contradictorily, amoe- bically (Anderson 2009). And so, again of course, do the components and relations of the affective. Crucially we may not be aware of being affected. Massumi explains: ‘Affect as a whole, then, is the virtual co-presence of potentials . . . our living bearing numerous possibilities in however modest ways that can merge, co-relate, affect. These potentials, as unexpected and unimagined possibilities, occur not only in our own self but in our relations with others, including the other-than-human and materialities’ (2002: 213). In a direct consideration of art, Turions put it this way: ‘Affect proved to be an elusive concept. . ., rather [t]he force of manipulation that an artwork car- ries . . . a tactic we use to press on each other’ (2013, see also Crouch 2014). In Stewart’s deft and explicit handling of atmospheres, she speaks to ideas of America and its parts as well as intimacies of individuals’ lives, singly and collectively (2011). While Böhme identifies the ambiguity of atmospheres, Stewart identifies how they or their affects may be momentarily coagulated
- 41. 8 Chapter 1 by individuals, rather than concern with their objective limitability, that is an objectivist’s trap (Böhme 2006; Anderson 2009: 80). In what way are they ‘ambiguous’? Atmosphere is ambiguous to a closely objective strategy but not so in the individual outside the academy. What matters? Stewart grants the value of the real, as the discussion that follows examines, because it is worth examining what is human and human feeling matters. Talking of celestial spheres does not seem to be more than a distraction, its feet ‘off the ground’. Affectivities, the operations of affect, are, like atmospheres, not necessar- ily progressively constructive or creative, as Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos explains, emulating Stewart’s often tragic spaces and Mitchell’s stories of land labourers in California (Mitchell 2003; Stewart 2011; Philippopoulos- Mihalopoulos 2016). In Stewart we find intimate, personal worlds affected and infected by alienation. In their situations of precarity they ‘got along’ with their life, in atmospheres of relations, isolations shared in a bare every- day existence, perhaps reformed as an escape. Yet, of course, to consider these enumerations to signal they are OK demonstrably fails them, as it does the sensitivity of Stewart’s insights. Rather, resembling barely paid and mal- treated fieldworkers, they demonstrate the necessity of progressive interven- tion: the need to remake our understanding of space, living and precarity. Yet they each can be (see also Metcalfe and Game 2008; Crouch 2010). In what follows there is certainly a focus on the promise of hope of a progressive kind, the kind that the late Leonard Cohen spoke of, light coming through the cracks. The anastomosing threads in living are often better articulated in art, poetry and authors like Rebecca Solnit, as Campbell engages with astute critical reasoning (2016), where nets or webs of relationality are pursued through her biographical stories. The British author Virginia Woolf, who much interested Deleuze, likewise opened up the wider networks and possibilities of human feeling rather than contract tightly to her own judgement of other things, the subject-self (Crouch 2010). THE AFFECTIVE CHARACTER IN THE OCCURRENCE OF SPACES AND THEIR ATMOSPHERES Allotment or community gardening has obvious possibilities of affective relations with diverse materialities and wider atmospheres in living. In their personal narratives many individuals talk in a matter-of-fact way about the product of their gardening efforts, favourite techniques and the difficulties of vandalism. In these arenas of the mundane every day, there are many body gestures, movements and activities. They engage other people in
- 42. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 9 conversation, sharing preparation of activities, overgrown corners on an allot- ment garden, arguing over weeds. They construct makeshift buildings, arrays of bird-scaring features to protect vegetables, their combinations of patterns of crops in the ground and ways of training vegetables are created with the material and imagination (Crouch and Ward 1997). Beyond that individuals’ gestures can easily appear to be routine and habitual, emptied of any further content. However, talking and listening in depth with plotholders, it is evident that the emergence of relations, the potential for affect and the multiplicity of the atmospheres affect beyond the repetitive tasks of working the ground. A Caribbean man in his seventies and a white woman in her sixties talk and express values and relationships nurtured through what they do and how they feel in the space that is the site, but it goes beyond its metrical turf. Alen starts: We disagree as to how long we’ve been doing it. He says it’s ten years since we’ve been neighbours, but I don’t think so. John continues. Well, it should be and it must be because I retired at sixty five. I came and found her here. We learn things from each other. You are very social and you are very kind. You make me feel good, you don’t come and call at me. Things in your gar- den you always hand me . . . little fruits . . . which I have appreciated ever so much. Alen again: And I’ve learnt things from him. I’ve learnt some ways of planting, I’ve learnt real skills about planting, Jamaican ways of growing and cooking. . . . Always said you can tell an Afro-Caribbean allotment, or an Asian allotment, or an Eng- lish allotment. And I’ve also learnt about patience and goodness and religion too. It all links in (Crouch and Ward 1997: ix). The two people do not use the word ‘space’ or even ‘spacing’, of course. To do so would be to detach from the read, fleshy, lived and felt. They do not exhaust the multiplicities of their imaginative, metaphorical world. These acts, including ideas, produce relations, also through other things, not just the individuals themselves. They convey the atmosphere that accrues, or passes through, where they are doing their simple tasks but that also reflect on much wider worlds: human relations, working with small materials and things that they grow or clear away, the other than human, and how they do so; thinking of spacetimes spent, different cultures and implicitly of particular social relations and an intimate human relationality, beliefs, values, attitudes and imagination. In their scenarios of encounters’ spacing there emerges a resolute yet serendipitous mutual and shared comfort and also possibility
- 43. 10 Chapter 1 through emergent atmospheres. They suggest the transformative possibili- ties of the simple, apparently uneventful things they do, in terms of feeling rather than outcome. They recall aspects of their lives and bring them into the present. Like individuals in Stewart’s accounts, they carry on. There is an acknowledgement of possibilities being worked, or performed, through the ways things are done. What they do and feel is enacted in relation to space in the sense of being there; the site where they meet, close to the earth and yet aware, there of this swirl, this loosely netted cluster of things that each derives from a different component of living and of being aware beyond the site, the locus of what they speak of. These gather, loosely, incompletely but evidently deeply in spacing. Space takes on, or is given, new significance in a process of spacing. What they say appears to exceed the prefigured and emerges from doing. In these examples performance is presented as being, holding on, and security, but also suggests the liminality of performance in which the self and the world are transformed. Although the power of liminality may be performed by going somewhere else, if this becomes habitual much of what is performed is seemingly routine. However, it is in the cracks of habitual acts and its materialities both ‘natural’ and otherwise, but also mutual aid and self-help, memories and dreams that significance can be found. In an abrupt switch, it is possible to recover from an artist’s living and sim- ply getting around and making marks that evoke the accreted feelings, some- thing remarkably similar, with a different voice and, to some extent, rhythm. Peter Lanyon was a mid-twentieth-century artist (1918–1964), who did much of his art in and around where he grew up, in Cornwall in the south-west of England, a rugged coastline especially on its north side, a mining history and many sparsely populated districts (Crouch 2010). Because of the location he was often pejoratively considered to be ‘provincial’ as an artist rather than, where he became, a major figure in international abstract expressionism of the time; he considered his works as abstractions of rather than be regarded a painter of the abstract. In this distinction of metaphor, his work, until perhaps a few months in his final year, was insistently carved through his intense awareness of his relation in the world. Indeed, his abstraction was to paint the feeling of that relation and its atmosphere in which he participated, severely exposed to its commingling affectivities, not, as often expressed, the painting as a construction aside the lived and felt, experience and materiality (McCormack 2012). The world as such is universal; it is what, we may sug- gest, matters most in individuals’, in our, lives, in a way synonymous with Stewart’s worlding. Peter Lanyon made many large paintings, overcame vertigo in order to get closer to the most vital subject of his art, both paintings and constructions, landscape. Yet he disparaged the word ‘landscape’ as it had, with exceptions most notably in the late Turner works, been made from one point only: fixed,
- 44. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 11 flat and unimaginative. He preferred the word ‘environments’. He sought to articulate a strong poetics of the visceral and fleshy feelings of being some- where, confronting and engaging, expressive (Crouch 2010: 27–42). Rather than provincial in any way, Lanyon not only became highly regarded in the middle decades of the last century; through his artwork he fought against the legacy and continuity of unscrupulous mining companies ignoring the vital needs of safety amid profit, almost sacralized in his painting Lost Mine, 1960, of a flooded tin mine. P. Lanyon (1982: 58–61) talked of one of his ordinary–extraordinary jour- neys that produced the painting in oils, offshore: The sea was piling in on the shore, the waves on top of one another, almost as if one were seeing it through a telephoto lens, the high tall waves behind the shorter ones in-shore. . . . I walked along the beach and this was on my right hand side at that time. Then I climbed up onto the Western Hill via the rocks so that the sea descended to my right and then I went up the side of the Western Hill, behind the rocks. The sea then became something down beside my feet. He continues in more detail extension to other-than human life and materialities: The sea section becomes more amorphous, the hill more structured . . . Cubist. . . . The whole thing becomes blue, with a little sea on the right hand side . . . land at left; little ‘bits’ of sea at the other three sides. . . . I found an ease. . . . I found that things were happening, that flowers looking at me were actually happening . . . things were stronger, that a car, for instance, sitting by a house had an extraordinary sitting power. A gate was agitated with its bars, that a house was standing up gaunt beside me that the road as I went back up into the town was hedged either side, but the sea was on one side, and was blowing up over the hedge and all the small grasses were moving, moving with a curi- ous blowing, twisting dropping action. Now, that’s the sign to me that there is a fusion, that there is an interest being created that connects this thing growing in yourself. I can pin it to the place as it were, and the place clicks with me . . . to establish itself in time and space. (Ibid.) Unlike the two plotholders Lanyon was, of course, an artist, trained to observe, assess and interpret. But he mined his own way of doing things. His particular abstraction in both his art and his talk of what was happening is penetrating and well honed. He was committed to communication. More self-conscious interpretation of his own atmospheres is to be expected. However, it is in the elements to which he refers, in his own body movement, tensions and intensi- ties; his vertigo-driven intensities and perhaps over-sensitivities; his awareness of his relation between body and rock, sea and so on that, stripping back the explicitness of actions, doings, memory, identity and feelings, it is possible to enunciate something of the articulations and relationalities that, instead of the
- 45. 12 Chapter 1 interpretation once pervasive in art thinking of formal relationships, animate the way he is feeling space, those Deleuzian gaps of energy where relational- ity is acute; through wandering and touching; imagining, making expression of feeling through the materials of artworking. Sites, ‘locations’ with which he was long familiar and through which relationalities he had felt distinctive character in spacing he ‘came across umawares’, in a day of different feeling. He threw himself, both literally and metaphorically, into his environments, rolling on the ground, bending to tie his shoelaces, turning and feeling the changing wind as well as the ‘movement’ of what was around him. His space and spacing were done with both feet, and not with the objective visually led and controlled measurement of either the Renaissance painter or the trainee surveyor – or the detached worker of the digital and the mechanical. When Lanyon took up gliding late in his short life, he lifted to feel the full multi-dimensionality of atmosphere: Far below, out of reach of one’s feet, is the landscape from St Agnes, looking eastward into Cornwall. It’s an ancient country, scored and marked by centuries of mining. This comes into the picture, but so does the sudden event happen- ing in the present, for the whole idea of painting began when flying over a cliff I disturbed a bird on its nest. It is this range of experience – from the immediate to the historical – that I want to include in my pictures. (Peter Lanyon, quoted in A. Lanyon 1993: 213) Although translated into words, Lanyon’s art expressed the character of abstraction in a different way. His is not an empty finding of ideas or ‘truths’ or aesthetics through a removal from the fleshy, messiness of the world and living, yet finding abstraction through his feelings, not in opposing the lived (Crouch and Toogood 1999; McCormack 2012). Beyond these phenomeno- logical and performative practices come his awareness of histories and his own memories and concerns; his inward–outward awareness of criss-crossing and commingling affect, further dimensions of atmosphere as spacetimes. Again, stirring the affectivities: Having experienced this long line say from the armpit down over the ribcage down to the pelvis, across the long thigh and down to the feet that line may take me out in the car to the landscape and I might experience this again. By hav- ing drawn the nude I experience it seriously, the sort of experience one would have by some sexual contact with the female. But in this case transformed to an understanding of the landscape. (Lanyon, quoted in Stephens 2000: 124) Space may be at once considered a loose entity or mixing of features, move- ments, energies; ideas, myths, memories, actions, an active ingredient in pro- cesses of feeling. Amid these energies is a rearrangement of energies and the
- 46. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 13 spaces we feel can arise, that we felt we knew but that emerge in new ways different in assemblages of power and meaning: incomplete, contingent and temporal. Space can be a vehicle through which the world can emerge and offer stimulation; in the feeling and thinking that individuals do that space is affected and affects, affects us, through which richness of life and space emerge. Space is similarly a participatory and dynamic energy in Massey’s geog- raphy: ‘The coming together of the previously unrelated, a constellation of processes rather than a thing. This is place as open and internally multiple . . . not intrinsically coherent’ (Massey 2005: 141). Yet problems with ‘place’ conceptually recur in the notion of being in place and not in place, which offers mere duality rather than fluidity and variation (Cresswell 1996). One minute I can be ‘in place’, the next ‘out of place’. Space is a more open cat- egory, such as it may be, due to its Deleuzian flexibility in the multiplicity of its occurrence rather than be bound in academic debate by institutionalized category, whether due to regulation of power, if even in its soft form, the regulations of fashion. Moreover, space is more than the contextual coor- dinates of the social, economic and political; more than the materials and their physical and metaphorical assemblage, of building material, vegetation, rock and so on. Space is increasingly recognized to be always contingently related in flows, energies and the liveliness of things, therefore always ‘in construction’, rather than fixed and certain, let alone static (Massey 2005). Space occurs, crucially rendered unstable and shifting, matter and relations in process. It may be felt to be constant, consistent and uninterrupted, but that feeling is subjective and contingent. ‘Landscape’, another much-contested geographical word, emerges in the relation, among the affective atmospheres, not outside them. In allotments, their landscapes merge the plotholders’ made material-as-seen with the imagined emergent in the feeling of practice, just in the same way as Lanyon’s abstractions. FURTHER COMPLEXITIES IN THE OCCURRENCE OF SPACE New encounters, however seemingly familiar, have the potential to open up new relations. In spacing, Deleuze and Guattari sought to make a distinction of emergent space in terms of an apparent duality of the energies of power in their constitution, thus striated (institutional, capitalist) and smooth space that is a kind of freespace: open, full of potentiality (Deleuze and Guattari 2004). These kinds of space suggest one way of thinking through the process of space in a way that operates in relation to what humans do, as different collectivities as well as individuals. Often their distinction appears as duality, yet: ‘The two spaces in fact exist only in mixture (emphasis mine): smooth
- 47. 14 Chapter 1 space is constantly being translated, traversed into striated space; striated space is constantly being reversed, returned to smooth space’ (Deleuze and Guattari 2004, my italics). Capitalist space is not totalizing, save particularly acute moments perhaps of war; lives, depleted and corrupted by it, may still eke out a thread that can still be open, but that should not ease the agitation of our thought. Variation and flexibility are implied in the shift between this otherwise-apparent duality. Moreover, if we consider that politics is embedded in the diverse elements of lived atmospheres as concerning meanings, interpretations, attitudes and values, then everyday life’s affectivities are significant in what politics is. As in other links of atmospheres and affectivities, these everyday emergences are not detached from the wider state, corporation and party-related politics. Yet the elements of the everyday hold a potentiality of distinction. And in every- day living these emerge with their own distinctive character, differently felt and difficult simply to classify. Everyday interactions bear their affectivities too, as well as what may be considered to take place at a ‘higher’ [sic] level. Thus, everyday tacit negotiations, sometimes linked with more organized influences and movements, are themselves affective at the intimate level of things. I refer to this kind of politics as gentle, but perhaps no less significant in the feeling of being alive. In this way it becomes possible to question the duality of Deleuze and Guattari between what they term ‘striated space’, overwhelmed by the power and organizing affects of capitalism, and ‘smooth space’, unaffected by capitalism, open and of freedom. It may be that more pervasive affects of striated space occur through actions of national or regional, or political power wielded by capitalist entities and their webs. Yet in making our own affects in everyday life actions, whether coherently made or not, these take the form of striations, if less heavily carved, grooved or stained as Deleuze and Guat- tari position what they call capitalist space. These life actions constitute the diverse, possibly more constant, possibly more varying gentle politics. Gentle politics is not something minor, subordinate, secondary, but an important dynamic of energies that work relationally in multiple and com- mingling ways.2 Returning to the occurrence of everyday spacetimes, Carol describes her experience of tending her plot of land: Working outdoors feels much better for you somehow . . . more vigorous than day to day housework, much more variety and stimulus. The air is always dif- ferent and alerts the skin, unexpected scents are brought by breezes. Only when on your hands and knees do you notice insects and other small wonders. My allotment is a central part of my life. I feel strongly that everyone should have some access to land, to establish a close relationship with the earth, something
- 48. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 15 increasingly missing in our society, but essential as our surroundings become more artificial. (Crouch 2010: 54) Carol describes what she does, and what her emerging feelings are, through how she spaces herself; her body engages in intimacy of space, significantly on her own terms, with movements among multisensual encounters. Carol touches, bends and kneels; she moves her body and spaces the gaps, and their objects, between vegetation, earth, insects, the air and herself. She finds her feeling of life, values, attitudes, through what her body does there. In this extract there is greater ambivalence between the content and process of performance, and reference to prefigured intentions and working those ideas through doing. In the extract, among the intimacies of senses and mental con- nections, she refers that back to contexts; maybe it could be regarded as dou- ble checking or confirming the close-up atmosphere and its lively affectivity with prior context, engaging simultaneously an implicit acknowledgement of being surrounded by, and striking into and among, affectivities. That context is political, of the struggle for ownership and access to land, ethical practice of cultivation. In her participations she engages a gentle politics. The artist Peter Lanyon makes a purposeful effort of challenge to instructed and learned practice, another political act of gentle register. His work is open to new affectivities in how he encounters what is around him and opens to the possibility of new atmospheres in the process of his ‘being-there’ and ‘feeling-there’, and carrying those affective potentialities back to the studio to affect new painting: By removing the static viewpoint from landscape and introducing an image constructed or in my case evolved out of many experiences the problem of landscape becomes one of painting environment, place and a revelation of a time process as an immediate spatial fact on a surface. (Peter Lanyon, quoted in A. Lanyon 1993: 290) Furthermore, he finds a multiply affective character, strong in space and in time among things he encounters and engages, that he webs into not only his lucid description but the work itself: The beginning of a painting may be down a tin mine or on top of a bus above the fields . . . an abnormal sense of rightness in the presence of some happen- ing or place . . . in West Cornwall this whole existence of surfacing deep and ancient experience is obvious. Everything surfaces in a deep and shocking manner. After a north storm . . . seamen can be seen plodding the beaches and picking objects out of the sand . . . a fascination which has affected me. These are reassurances of the living I know in my paintings – the comparisons, the closeness and the edges of lives different in appearance but fundamental in their
- 49. 16 Chapter 1 history . . . so that the farmer, the miner, the seaman, all in their own journey make outward the under things. (Peter Lanyon, quoted in A. Lanyon 1993: 292) Space, for him, his environments, is felt freed of the expected, the familiar and the ‘properly painterly’; it recovers, taken in and loosened and almost shaken across worlding practice of return visits to a site, returning again to his studio, turning the canvas aside and maybe working thereon from there. In this way enacting the relational character of space, affect and power, this commingling of the energies of spacing connects the case for better acknowl- edging the work of gentle politics that in a way works in the smooth space but unavoidably in relation to more institutionalized space. Both of these spaces are actually multiple, multiply affected and of great diversity. In a world that is multiple and relationally affective rather than just hierarchical, all kinds of life and things affect and are affected by space and commingle. In these sequences a process of worlding where space(times) come to the fore, Carol makes – or affects – a space that is replete with both interest and her curiosity. Each moment of her doing other-than human, for her in particular, commingles with her concern for global affects in which humans are deeply involved, in turn with her sense of intimate participation in where she is and what she is doing, her strong sense of care. In her gentle politic she is active and not alone. She contributes, with all these other players, in struggle and change, and makes her own deeply felt modest adjustment in its worlding. Lanyon throws himself into the spaces where he is also participating, con- tributing in making, doing, a worlding. The space is not merely a painting or construction; it is in the swirl of affects – even of an unsettled gate, his attitudes concerning the terrible experience of miners in terrible conditions of labour and the owners who pressed these onto them; along with his recall of geological history, which also stirs his feeling, makes its affects and their effects are felt. Human actions, the other-than human in practices, relations, events and reflec- tions make atmospheres where he engages worlding. Perhaps most caught up in the atmospheres in which he worked occurred when he took to gliding, ostensi- bly to engage environments from the air, from above. Indeed, he encountered more than this. Of course, the atmosphere of climate caught him up close and three dimensionally, but also his gliding brought him into greater, ever more intimate awareness of the multiple character of the three-dimensional feel of space and its affectivities: he discovered space to be three dimensional in the very materiality of air, precipitation, uncertain winds and the bumpiness of his aircraft. His later paintings, murals and other works became dominated by this atmosphere, these atmospheres not only in detached form from land: the mul- tiplicity commingled, sometimes almost arguing among themselves (Stephens 2000). For over a decade, by 1960, he had been making three-dimensional
- 50. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 17 constructions of environments; now in gliding he became more fully aware of the multiplicity of surrounding affects. Overwhelmed by the affects, he crashed his glider and died in the few days following. REFLECTIONS In different ways, these individual stories each articulate the feeling of the individual relationally with a whole web of evident liveliness that overspills classical confinement of process and practice, intimate lives, wide concerns and values; little fruits, oppression, small wonders; memory unsettling, dis- comfort and exhilaration of salty winds, bending, turning, even rolling over, feeling part of a collective practice, and in all of the gaps between these things there is the spark of an affect, or rather of multiple, commingling or colliding affects, breaking, splitting, smoothing. Across this diverse gathering of voices it is possible to track the meshwork and expression of doing and feeling, and its expressive poetics and also often-overlooked gentle politics. This is how space occurs. Through the effect of affectivities belonging or disorientation can accompany our worlding, changeable as spacetimes. A desire to open a little to the dynamic character of living, there is another desire to feel life held together, feelings in ways that defy duality, and mix. These feelings and affects work as fleshy lines of energy and anastomosing ramifications that offer the loose meshing of directions and connectivities. Spacing does not omit a desire or perhaps need to hold on to what one’s situ- ated life presents, identity, feeling and belonging, emotional orientation. It acknowledges similarly the desire to go further, to change. These impulses are not in duality but in those swirls of complexity that Stewart’s atmospheres so deftly acknowledge, pushing the notion of spacing towards more acknowl- edgement of the embodied, even fleshy character of space. In tracking these complex, nuanced affectivities there are numerous, mul- tiple ways in which these energies may collide or coalesce. There are simi- larly numerous ways in which affects may be experienced, albeit too often concealed in wide tracts and trajectories of living. Again, we keep going; we may get on (with living). Each body and fragment of our work can originate differently: belonging, alienation, health, distance and so on. Through a multidisciplinary, or so-called post-disciplinary perspective this has benefits in coming together, comparing notes and ideas. Yet the particular and the distinctive in each disciplinary origination lends the rich potential of throwing different angles on each enquiry. Moreover, of course, perhaps, our attention to the close-up and intimate tackling, coping and hoping among individuals needs to remain open to multiple, wider worlds in which we live, inevitably pulling in personal and collective memory, their oppositions and changes.
- 51. 18 Chapter 1 Tangles of the mundane swirl into and from these, too. Like those corpo- rate and institutional worlds, their forces and affects and direct effects, they are enormously varied across lives – and sites and atmospheres of living. Similarly, a domination of their being given priority in our attentions must equally be in the hearing and response ranges of our enquiries. As Jane Ben- nett explained, there are others than us who participate in this worlding, and no less in the occurrence of space, in their affects: To acknowledge non-human materialities as participants in a political ecology is not to claim that everything is always a participant, or that all participants are alike. Persons, worms, leaves, bacteria, metals and hurricanes have different types and degrees of power, just as different persons have different types and degrees of power. . . but surely the scope of democratisation can be broadened to acknowledge more non-humans in more ways, in something like the ways in which we have come to hear the political voices of other humans. (2010: 109) As we become more aware of and alert to the other-than human, it is impor- tant to hold on to what Bennett (also) implies regarding the unevenness of human affects, but also influence and power. Moreover, as Crossley argued intently, intersubjectivity matters and is not to be overlooked. While many artists, perhaps somewhat like Lanyon, may be relative solitaries, humans at large are and act collectively, often thought today to be merely of historical interest. Collectives and everyday cooperative practice inhabits becoming, as Crossley’s (1996: 27) title; ‘becoming’ implies, akin and frequently germane to the collective character of becoming among even ‘mundane’ [sic] creativ- ity (Cohen 2007), and Inger Birkeland underscores the continuing importance of intersubjectivity that does not overlook human participation in her writing on the making of self and place (Birkeland 2005). In a way, this brief reflection points to the need to, as it were, ‘flesh out the rhizomes’, a kind of root that often seems to have an echoing of the old geographical obsession with such as distance, geographically/geopolitically inscribed boundaries, thin lines on maps that simply prove a point. Ingold has made lines thicken and come alive (Ingold 2011). Similarly, notions of layering often suggest, inadvertently, the ‘settling’ of time in particular, but also of lives, events and affects. Yet, of course, each layer can be disrupted, and its bits erupt into the present. Memory, again, rarely remains continuous or consistent. I have sought to develop something of an understanding of the vibrancy of the occurrence of space through collision of multiplicities of affects towards worlding. Lives and feelings feature prominently in this narrative because I think they do in the unpicking of spacing evoked in the words, mood, feel- ings, values and attitudes of the individuals who appear here, appear in life
- 52. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 19 witnessed in participatory observation. It is easy to impose our thoughts on what others say and do, move and reflect, and my guilt may be shared here. Yet it is in the intimate attention to what and how something is said and done, whispered and avoided, that it becomes possible to offer a story of space in lives, affect and worlding that seems to do some justice to these testimonies. Thus it becomes more possible to conceptualize what often appears opaque (affect, atmosphere) that once seemed obvious. NOTES 1. See, for example, special issue of Geographical Review 201; Environmental Humanities and the series The Spatial Humanities, University Press, since 2015. 2. These few words I loosely (inadequately) abridged from Cohen’s poem Anthem. BIBLIOGRAPHY Anderson, Ben. 2009. ‘Affective Atmospheres’. Emotion, Space and Society 2:77–81. Bachelard, Gaston. 1994. The Poetics of Space: The Classic Look at How We Experi- ence Intimate Places. Translated by Maria Jolas. Boston: Beacon Press. Bennett, Jane. 2010. Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Birkeland, Inger J. 2005. Making Place, Making Self: Travel, Subjectivity, and Sexual Difference. Aldershot: Ashgate. Böhme, Gernot. 2006. ‘Atmosphere as the Subject Matter of Architecture’. In Her- zog de Meuron: Natural History, edited by Philip Ursprung, 398–406. Baden: Lars Müller Publishers. Burkitt, Ian. 1999. Bodies of Thought: Embodiment, Identity and Modernity. London: Sage. Campbell, Neil. 2016. Affective Critical Regionality. London: Rowman Littlefield. Cocker, Emma. 2013. ‘Reading towards Becoming Casual’. In Reading/Feeling, edited by Tanja Baudoin, Frédérique Bergholtz and Vivien Ziherl, 21–24. Amster- dam: If I Can’t Dance, I Don’t Want to Be Part of Your Revolution. Cohen, Sara. 2007. Decline, Renewal and the City in Popular Music Culture: Beyond the Beatles. Aldershot: Ashgate. Cresswell, Tim. 1996. In Place/Out of Place: Geography, Ideology and Transgres- sion. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Crossley, Nick. 1996. Intersubjectivity: The Fabric of Social Becoming. London: Sage. Crouch, David. 2003. ‘Spacing, Performing, and Becoming: Tangles in the Mun- dane’. Environment and Planning A 35 (11):1945–1960.
- 53. 20 Chapter 1 Crouch, David. 2010. Flirting with Space: Journeys and Creativity. Farnham: Ashgate. Crouch, David. 2014. ‘Review Essay: Reading/Feeling’. Edited T. Boudoin, F. Berg- holtz, V. Ziherl. Emotion, Space and Society 12:118–119. Crouch, David, and David Matless. 1996. ‘Refiguring Geography: The Parish Maps of Common Ground’. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 21:236–255. Crouch, David, and Mark Toogood. 1999. ‘Everyday Abstraction: Geographical Knowledge in the Art of Peter Lanyon’. Ecumene 6 (1):72–89. Crouch, David, and Colin Ward. 1997. The Allotment: Its Landscape and Culture. 5th edition. Nottingham: Five Leaves Publications. Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. 2004. A Thousand Plateaus. London: Continuum. Dufrenne, Mikel. 1973 [1953]. The Phenomenology of Aesthetic Experience. Trans- lated by Edward S. Casey, Albert A. Anderson, Willis Domingo and Leon Jacob- son. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. Grosz, Elizabeth. 1999. ‘Thinking the New: Of Futures Yet Unthought’. In Becom- ings: Explorations in Time, Memory and Futures, edited by Elizabeth Grosz, 15–28. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Hallam, Elizabeth, and Tim Ingold. 2007. ‘Creativity and Cultural Improvisation: An Introduction’. In Creativity and Cultural Improvisation, edited by Elizabeth Hal- lam and Tim Ingold, 1–24. Oxford: Berg. Ingold, Tim. 2011. Being Alive: Essays on Movement, Knowledge and Description. London: Routledge. Lanyon, Andrew. 1993. Peter Lanyon. Newlyn: Andrew Lanyon. Lanyon, Peter. 1982. ‘“Offshore in Progress”, Interview Transcribed by Adrian Lewis’. Artscribe 34:58–61. Lorimer, Hayden. 2006. ‘Herding Memories of Humans and Animals’. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 24 (4):497–518. Manning, Erin. 2009. Relationscapes: Movement, Art, Philosophy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Massey, Doreen. 1994. Space, Place and Gender. Minneapolis: University of Min- nesota Press. Massey, Doreen. 2005. For Space. London: Sage. Massumi, Brian. 2002. ‘Navigating Moments [in Conversation with Mary Zournazi]’. In Hope: New Philosophies for Change, edited by Mary Zournazi, 210–243. Annandale: Pluto Press. McCormack, Derek P. 2012. ‘Geography and Abstraction: Towards an Affirmative Critique’. Progress in Human Geography 36 (6):715–734. Merriman, Peter. 2013. ‘Unpicking Time-Space: Towards New Apprehensions of Movement-Space’. In Perspectives on Mobility, edited by Ingo Berensmeyer and Cristoph Ehland, 177–192. Amsterdam: Rodopi. Metcalfe, Andrew, and Anne Game. 2008. ‘Potential Space and Love’. Emotion, Space and Society 1 (1):18–21. Mitchell, Don. 2003. ‘Dead Labor and the Political Economy of Landscape – California Living, California Dying’. In Handbook of Cultural Geography, edited by Kay Anderson, Mona Domosh, Steve Pile and Nigel Thrift, 233–248. London: Sage.
- 54. Space, Living, Atmospheres, Affectivities 21 Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos, Andreas. 2016. ‘Withdrawing from Atmosphere: An Ontology of Air Partitioning and Affective Engineering’. Environment and Plan- ning D: Society and Space 34 (1):150–167. Stephens, Chris. 2000. Peter Lanyon: At the Edge of the Landscape. London: 21 Publishing. Stewart, Kathleen. 2007. Ordinary Affects. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Stewart, Kathleen. 2011. ‘Atmospheric Attunements’. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 29 (3):445–453. Turions, C. 2013. ‘Untitled’. In Reading/Feeling, edited by Tanja Baudoin, Frédéri- que Bergholtz and Vivien Ziherl. Amsterdam: If I Can’t Dance, I Don’t Want to Be Part of Your Revolution.
- 55. Another Random Scribd Document with Unrelated Content
- 56. Leah's lips quivered, her soft eyes filled with tears. In the land of Israel I have a brother who has been a cripple from birth, she murmured. I was on my way to Samaria to seek Elisha and beg of him that he heal my brother. But, child, thou art poor, how didst thou propose to reward Elisha for healing thy brother? asked Claudia. The little maid looked up inquiringly. What meaneth thou, dear mistress? she asked. Surely thou knoweth, maiden, that the magicians of the court of Benhadad, king of Syria, receive rich salaries, replied Claudia. But even they possess not the power of this Elisha for they cannot heal the leper. Therefore, Elisha must be even more richly rewarded than are the magicians of Benhadad's court. Dear mistress, Elisha is no magician, but a holy man of God, said the little maid. He dwelleth not at the court of the king, neither does he receive aught in recompense for the good that he doeth. I—I do not understand, murmured Claudia, perplexedly. Why, Naaman, my husband, did take with him to Samaria ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of raiment with which to reward Elisha should he be healed of his leprosy. Leah smiled. My lord will bring back with him from Damascus the ten talents of silver, the six thousand pieces of gold and the ten changes of raiment, she said, for Elisha will have none of them. Claudia sat for some moments in thought. Perhaps this Elisha is a seeker after fame, and so to win the praise of men he uses his power for the poor as well as the rich, she said, at length. But I believe not that he will refuse the treasure which my husband carried with him to Samaria.
- 57. Leah did not answer. Claudia, after regarding her attentively for some moments, said: Thou seemeth to give no heed to my words, maiden. Dost thou in truth believe that Elisha will refuse to receive the treasure which Naaman carryeth with him? I know dear mistress, that Elisha will refuse to accept the treasure which my lord carryeth with him to Samaria, replied the little maid, firmly. Elisha careth not for riches nor the praise of men. He seeketh only to please and serve the Lord who hath given to him his great power. What manner of man is this Elisha who can inspire such great and unswerving faith? mused Claudia. Is the God of Israel more powerful than the god of Syria, for Rimmon hath given to no man in Syria power like unto that possessed by Elisha? she said aloud. The little maid looked up earnestly into her mistress' beautiful face. There is no God save the God of Israel, she said. Claudia smiled indulgently. Thou art of the land of Israel, little one, she said, and, therefore, thou dost believe that the God Israel worships be the only true God. Perhaps, if thou dwelleth long in Syria, thou will learn to worship Syria's god. No, dear lady, that could never be, replied Leah, earnestly. I may see no more my people and my country, but I shall ever remain faithful to my God. He dwelleth not alone in the land of Israel, but he ruleth over all the earth. 'Tis He, Who through his prophet, will heal thy husband of his leprosy. Thou speaketh idle words child, said Claudia, a little impatiently. The God of Israel would not bestow His favors upon a Syrian who does worship Syria's god. But, there, enough of this; let us speak of
- 58. other things. Tell me of thy people. Hast thou brothers and sisters in the land of Israel? I have but one brother, dear mistress, replied Leah. And this brother has been a cripple from birth? gently asked Claudia. Yes, dear mistress. And thou dost love him very dearly? Ah, so dearly, murmured the little maid, with quivering lips. Poor child, thy young life has known much sorrow, said Claudia, pityingly. And, yet, thou thinketh more of the sorrows of others than of thy own. My heart is sad at times, said Leah. But I must not rebel against the will of the good God. And is this why thou dost bear so patiently and unmurmuringly the sorrows which have darkened thy young life? asked Claudia, wonderingly. But the gods are wont to send afflictions upon those who offend them, thou canst not have offended thy God. God, in His wisdom, doth often afflict those whom He loveth, said Leah. Claudia smiled. This God of thine is a strange God, she said.
- 59. Chapter IX. When fourteen days had passed since his departure for Samaria, the caravan of Naaman again entered the gates of Damascus. The little maid, learning of this, made haste to seek her mistress. Dear mistress, she said, the caravan of my lord has entered the city and proceedeth to the palace of Benhadad, the king. Claudia turned very white. And—and what other tidings dost thou bring? she faltered. Speak, child; keep me not in suspense. I bring no further tidings, my mistress, answered the little maid. Claudia sank upon a couch, trembling and faint. Leah knelt beside her and kissed her hands. Why dost thou tremble and grow pale, dear mistress, she asked. I did come to thee at once with the tidings of my lord's return, thinking that thou wouldst rejoice and be happy. If I knew that he were healed then indeed would I rejoice, said Claudia. But if he be not healed my heart will be filled with sadness and sad indeed our meeting. Be at peace, my lady, said the little maid, earnestly. My lord has returned healed of his leprosy. Thou hast indeed great faith, child, said Claudia, with a faint smile. But only when I hear from the lips of my husband that he is healed will I believe. But, come and array me, for whether Naaman return in sorrow or gladness I will do him honor.
- 60. The little maid hastened to put a rich silken robe upon her mistress, binding back her golden hair with a circlet of glittering gems. Come, then said Claudia, thou shalt await with me the coming of Naaman. Upon entering Damascus, Naaman had at once sought the palace of the king. The latter received him most graciously, saying: What fortune did attend thy journey into the land of Israel, my good Naaman? My lord, I return healed of my leprosy, replied Naaman. Thou cometh indeed with wonderful tidings, exclaimed the king. Marvelous is the power of this magician of the court of Jehoram. What sayeth thy wife, the beautiful Claudia? great rejoicing must indeed be hers. She as yet knows not that I have returned from Samaria, answered Naaman. I did first seek the presence of my king to make known to him the wonders that have been done unto me. Ah, murmured Benhadad, thou art ever faithful to thy country and thy king. The proud eyes of the Syrian wavered and fell under the king's kind gaze. Ah, he was thinking, the king knows not that I have forsaken the god of my country for Jehovah Who ruleth over all the earth. I will detain thee no longer at present, said Benhadad. Make haste to the presence of thy wife with thy tidings of joy. Meanwhile the news shall go abroad over all the land that Naaman has returned from Samaria healed of his leprosy that all Syria may rejoice and
- 61. offer sacrifice to Rimmon. Say to thy wife that Benhadad rejoices with her that Naaman has returned healed. Naaman bent his head to kiss the hand of the king and then left the palace. As the chariot passed through the streets of Damascus shouts of rejoicing were heard upon every side; Benhadad had already sent forth the tidings of the healing of Naaman. Claudia, awaiting the coming of her husband, heard the shouts and cries and turned very pale. What means those cries? she asked of the little maid. My lord passes through the streets of Damascus and the people rejoices that he is healed, answered Leah. Only when I hear from the lips of my husband that he be healed will I believe, again said Claudia. The servants of the palace then took up the joyous cries; Naaman had passed through the gates. A few moments more and the embroidered draperies were put aside and Naaman stood upon the threshold of the great chamber. And as she looked into his face Claudia knew how it was with him. She moved forward and was folded to his breast. And the little maid, with tears in her eyes, passed out of the chamber, leaving them alone. After a little while, however, she was summoned to the presence of Naaman. Claudia, her beautiful face all aglow with happiness, stood by her husband's side. Maiden, said Naaman, Elisha, whose great powers thou didst make known to me, has healed me of my leprosy. My lord, my heart is indeed glad that thou hast returned healed of thy leprosy, said the little maid.
- 62. And thou, maiden, shall be rewarded, continued Naaman. Ask of me what thou wilt and it shall be granted unto thee. The little maid fell upon her knees at his feet. O, my lord, she cried, I would return to those who love me and sorrow for me in the dear land of Israel. I crave of thee but one thing, my lord—freedom. It is granted thee, said Naaman. Thou art no more a slave. The little maid caught his hand and covered it with kisses. Claudia stooped and lifted her to her feet. It grieves me to part with thee, little one, she said. But I shall be glad that thou art happy with those whom thou dost love. I shall never forget thee nor cease to love thee, murmured Leah. Maiden, hast thou no further desire? asked Naaman. What more could I desire, my lord, since thou hast given me my freedom? replied the little maid. Thou art poor, said Naaman. Hast thou never craved riches? Not for myself, my lord, answered Leah. But I have often wished that my parents were not forced to labor so hard. Thy parents shall labor no more, said Naaman, quietly. What meaneth thou, my lord? murmured the little maid, bewilderedly. Listen to me, maiden, continued Naaman. I did carry with me to Samaria ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of raiment with which to reward Elisha should he heal me of my leprosy. Leah smiled.
- 63. And Elisha did refuse to accept the treasure which thou didst carry with thee to Samaria, she said. Yes, replied Naaman, but the treasure which Elisha did refuse shall be thine.
- 64. Chapter X. Early upon the morning following a servant came to Leah and said: There be a lad outside the gates of the palace who desires speech with thee. A lad desires speech with me, said the little maid, wonderingly. But I know no lad in Damascus. He inquired for the Israelite maiden who is a slave in the house of Naaman, replied the servant. 'Tis only a ragged beggar lad, and the servant turned scornfully away. Leah passed out of the palace and ran down to the great gates. Beyond the gates, for the servant had not permitted him to enter, stood a lad. His coarse garments were soiled and torn, his bare feet were cut and bleeding. The golden light from the rising sun fell upon his dark curly head. Uttering a cry of joy, he ran, with outstretched hands, towards the little maid. Leah! sister! I have found thee at last! he cried. She stood motionless, gazing at him with wide, bewildered eyes. Isaac! my brother! is it indeed thou? she cried. Yes, 'tis indeed thy Isaac! he answered. But, as thou dost see, no longer a cripple for Elisha has made me whole. Elisha has made thee whole, she repeated.
- 65. Yes; listen, and I will tell thee all, said Isaac. I will speak but briefly of the sorrow which did fill our hearts when thou wert captured by the Syrians. Had I not been a helpless cripple I would have gone forth to seek thee. Then one day our mother called our father to her and said, 'Unless thou seeketh help we shall soon have no child, for Isaac will die of his grief for his sister.' 'Where and of whom shall I seek help?' asked our father. 'Journey to Samaria and seek the prophet, Elisha,' answered our mother. 'Tell to him how heavily the hand of misfortune has fallen upon our home. Beg of him to return with thee and heal our son.' So upon the morrow our father did borrow the ass of our neighbor and set forth upon his journey to Samaria. In the evening he returned, bringing Elisha with him. That night, sister, while our parents slept, Elisha came and stood beside my couch. I felt the touch of his hand upon my limbs and I heard his voice saying, 'With the sun thou shalt rise from thy couch and walk.' Then he was gone and it seemed to me I had but dreamed. When the morning had come and the sun had risen, Elisha was gone, but I did arise from my couch and walk, for I was strong and made whole. Then did I set forth to seek thee. I was many days in reaching Damascus. I was often hungry and footsore, but I was happy for I was no longer a cripple. But yesterday I did pass through the gates of Damascus. There was great excitement upon the streets. The people were shouting and uttering cries of joy. I learned that they were rejoicing because Naaman, a great Syrian general and favorite of the king, Benhadad, had returned from Samaria healed of his leprosy. I asked a woman in the crowd who had healed Naaman. 'A great man called Elisha,' she replied. 'Tis said that Naaman did hear of this Elisha through a little Israelite maid who is a slave in Naaman's household.' Oh, dear sister, how I did rejoice at her words for I knew then that I had found thee. I am come to offer myself as Naaman's slave that I may ransom thee.
- 66. Leah put her arms tenderly about his neck. Brother, she said, I am no more a slave; neither shalt thou nor our parents labor, for Naaman has made me rich. Oh! dear brother! our hearts should indeed be filled with gratitude to Jehovah, Israel's God. END.
- 67. Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Page 12, widsom changed to wisdom (words of wisdom) Page 52, pesisted changed to persisted (persisted the servant) Page 68, A changed to An (An hour before)
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