Pallasmaa J. (2005)The Eyes of the Skin
“One of the reasons why architectural and urban settings of our time tend to make us feel like outsiders, in comparison with forceful emotional engagement of natural and historical settings, is their poverty in the field of peripheral vision.”
Schoemaker J. (2012)The Undivided City
“Of all means of transportation, walking is closest to standing still. You move slower than anyone else. Most people are on their way to something, while you are busy making sure with every step that you are walking as closely as possible on the line to be followed. You take everything you see with an equal level of concentration. At least, that is what you try to do.…You try to attach equal value to every place.
…The slow pace at which you move through every area makes that area different for you than it is for people whose pace is adapted to the environment.…You are not looking for anything. Looking for something is the result of an expectation, and you don’t have any expectations.”
What does my body try to tell me?
A relationship between these two paraphrases becomes evident when the concept of walking in Schoemaker’s text is replaced with dancing, particularly classical ballet. In classical ballet, there is a significant emphasis on moments of stillness. A critical aspect of ballet involves finding and maintaining the correct body position. The intense observation required by dancers to position their bodies accurately within the environment demands an exceptional level of concentration. This necessity for precision may render classical ballet an even slower form of movement compared to walking, perhaps aligning it more closely with the concept of standing still.
Pallasmaa elucidates the importance of the peripheral gaze, or the peripheral perspective. The inability to engage this perspective within an urban context can result in feelings of alienation from the environment. This phenomenon resonates with my experiences in Tilburg. Regardless of how often I walk, stand still, or dance in Tilburg, there is a persistent sense of self-alienation within the urban landscape. This sensation is not solely derived from the proprioceptive signals my body processes but is also influenced by the movement patterns of passersby. In all honesty, the movements of passersby in Tilburg’s public spaces do not convey openness or receptiveness.
This observation suggests that classical ballet could serve as a highly effective research method to utilize and convey the peripheral perspective. Passersby become spectators and thus inherently participants in the dancer’s peripheral space. The dancer’s awareness merges with the spectator’s awareness, resulting in an inevitable form of synthesis.
The question arises: why does classical ballet, specifically in Tilburg, heighten spectators’ awareness?It could be due to the extensive transformations in the spatial order, which may cause residents to feel disconnected from their environment. The rapid pace of environmental change might outstrip the residents’ proprioceptive capacities. Consequently, they might find solace in the slow tempo of classical ballet positions. This could be where the power of craftsmanship and the act of standing still lies.
It has previously come to my attention that Tilburg has a particular affinity for artisanal products. The city center boasts an artisanal baker, butcher, and watchmaker, among other stores selling artisanal goods such as knives and leather products.
This observation prompts further reflection: is the appeal centered on skill, craftsmanship, or the pace associated with these artisanal practices?
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