I chose to explore the tube during rush hour yesterday. So in the morning I went on a journey from Willesden Green --> Waterloo --> Tottenham Court Road -->Bond Street --> Swiss Cottage. My attempt was to explore the body through Laban Movement Analysis, which looks at different unconscious styles of action the body exudes that mean different things about that person.
Basically, I found this rather redundant in 2012 London because technology and space has adapted the way we hold our bodies, for example we curl over our phones, but this doesn't necessarily mean we are being indirect....?
I also attempted, to smile at people, I use the word attempted because gaining eye contact was hard enough. There are patterns of intricacy that appear on the tube whereby people place themselves in such a way that their eyes cannot directly contact someone else's. My results were dim....
After a 45 minutes journey, 10 people looked away when I smiled at them, 7 people gave me a awkward half smile, 2 people gave me a half genuine smile but away straight afters, as if something x-rated had just happened...
FINALLY, I got a smile...OK, I only got a smile because I gave her my seat, but still.... it was something.
So, in the evening I went out again, but this time I wanted to just write, ironically, I took my iphone to write on.... but that is a whole other story...
So here we go, this is my account of my journey on the tube from Swiss Cottage to London Bridge 5.15-5.45...
As I start to analyse the sound of the tube, I hear thunder, I feel big rather than intimidated, I feel large with the sound of the air, I feel close to the winds.
I pay attention to the way I sit,
With my legs automatically crossed, how did they get there? At what point do I throw my left leg over my right?
My elbows stretched across the arms of the seats. My shoulders automatically lift up because my posture doesn't change to adapt to the spacing of my shoulders.
I begin to notice my posture, naturally curving over ready for me to play with my iPhone, read a magazine or clasp my hands across my stomach.
Do we ever realise how we sit? As I begin to think about how bad my posture is, I want to re-align, my shoulders feel tense hunched up and I dont like how my legs are crossed. I feel closed off and restricted, do we even realise how much me inwardly direct ourselves?!
The woman's stomach, our bags are automatically sat on our laps, like a precious stone that we must guard, our hands, again, automatically shielding it with a slight or small grasp. If there is no bag at our stomachs, women seem to sit hands pressed together, guarding a stomach, guarding themselves? Are we self conscious? Has the media even changed our natural bodily practices to hide our, what the magazine so eloquently named 'our problem area' or ' muffin top'...?
Our eyes, staring, they stare, at anything but a human. We will make contact with the words on a page, the iPhone, anything but the people around us.
My journey is enlightened by the family with the small child, they are attentive, protect but also happy, involved, really bright, and this illumination is inviting as they sit and entertainment the wondering and inquisitive eyes of the child. The child, the unconditioned curious child, their big eyes negotiating with the space, excited to learn, happy to stare into the eyes of another. The family, who fill the bland silence by answering the child's futile but curious questions with loud and animated responses.
The sea of evening standards cover the eyes, shield the tube travellers from the possibility of engaging in an awkward glance with another.
The men of the tube are more open, the legs wide, their chests uncovered by hands, not bothered by the possibility to someone stealing their stuff? Or possibly open to criticism, unlike women? Possibly not as conscious, nothing to hide...?
The tube begins to fill and my largeness I felt earlier suddenly becomes filled with bodies and newspapers. I am sitting down and I feel intimidating
"I'm waiting for an appointment to have it cut out..." I hear this loud conversation between two people and it breaks my previous thought. My natural urge to be nosey invites me in to wonder what they're talking about... A lump? Her hair? Her hair in an unfortunate place...?
The women wearing their trainers, do, aptly for the military like nature of the tube...
I then travelled out onto London Bridge....
The sounds of different conversations float into my ear as I walk past, different accents, languages. The sound of talking is invited by my ear after the awkward silence of the tube.
The racing start at the traffic lights, the bikes prepared at the front of the race, the cars bellowing behind them like an animal about to chase it prey.
I cut across the herd of people walking across London bridge, my senses are alivened, similar to when you are about to fall or someone may hit you, I am suddenly fearful of these angry walkers. They have an intention, they aren't dawdling, or even looking over their shoulder to glance the beautiful views that London has to offer.
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I meet this man from New York, he startles me, I was so lost in watching other people's movements. We get to talking, I invite him into my current awareness of the London Bridge stampede...
"New York used to be like this" he answered in response to a statement I made about how the rush hour workers ignore each other and the beauty of the city. He goes on to state how New York is more communal after 9/11, people are more friendly, possibly sharing a nod or a smile. Does it take a disaster to open up people's senses, to awaken people to their existence and how they are not too dissimilar to the other people that share their space?
I started thinking about 7/7, but what seems to have happened is that it wasn't big enough (horrendous as it sounds) to really affect us. Instead, it made us even more inward, even more fearful...
So this is where I leave you.
My first blog, now I'm off to turn this into a rehearsal process to understand the body in spaces...
Bye.
M.J
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