The Art of Straying
Just finished reading a fair amount of literature about the flâneurs of Paris. I read through The Flâneurs in Baudelaire by Walter Benjamin, Paris and the rise of the Flâneur by Merlin Coverley, and The Art of Straying, by Carlo Salzani, among others . "The term flâneur comes from the French noun flâneur—which has the basic meanings of "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", "loafer"—which itself comes from the French verb flâner, which means "to stroll". Flânerie refers to the act of strolling, with all of its accompanying associations.
The flâneur was, first of all, a literary type from nineteenth-century France, essential to any picture of the streets of Paris. It carried a set of rich associations: the man of leisure, the idler, the urban explorer, the connoiseur of the street." (Wikipedia, Sept 25) Essentially, the flâneurs were a bunch of guys who walked around, taking in and romanticizing the views of the city.
The flâneur had no destination, no purpose. They walked. The saw.
Love Song
I walk alone.
-Zulu (Africa)
(Man in Poetic Mode 2,
McDougal, Little & Company
1971)
I often walk, although more often lately I ride my bike. I ride my bike because it's quicker to get places. Faster, smoother. But when I'm not in a hurry, when I'm not focused on my destination, I walk.
Steven Tyler once said, "It's not the destination, it's the journey," and I'm sure that could have been an ample quote for most of the flâneurs of Paris. I definitely can identify with wandering around a space, getting to know it from the outside, while never entering in.
There is such beauty when you stand back and watch. You get to notice all the special things that you otherwise wouldn't. The flâneur had the capacity to notice his environment while not being trapped in the scene. In that way his gaze could almost own whatever it touched. And yet, the environment around him, although beautiful, was also one of despair.
The city was changing, a new era had arrived. Industrial revolution, large cities, coffee shops, retail stores. Things to be gazed at for sure, but suddenly a space that no longer was hospitable to the man who walked. They no longer knew how to relate to their environment, it was too different, too new. The only way the flâneur could try and take it back, to make it into something he could understand, was to focus on the beauty and walk and walk and walk.
Of all the artists who walk, I love the work of Diane Borsato, who tried to implement a different type of connection into the walking of a city.
"I read a study that suggested that when people are subtly touched, it can affect their behaviour and well being. For a month I went out of my way to delicately bump, rub past, and tap 1000 strangers in the city. I touched commuters, shoppers, cashiers and taxi cab drivers on the street, on the metro, in shops and in museums. The exercise was like a minimalist performance. I was exploring the smallest possible gesture, and how it could create an effect in public.
The action was performed for one month in various locations in Montreal in 2001, and repeated for ten days across the city of Vancouver in 2003."
I do love the idea of walking around the city, but in the end, I really do love my bike.
The action was performed for one month in various locations in Montreal in 2001, and repeated for ten days across the city of Vancouver in 2003."