Porticoes, Embodiment and Street Cries: Recent work…

Image: North Cardo Maximus, facing south, towards the forum in Ostia (Jeff Veitch)

Currently, I am working on a variety of different things all at once (presentations, publications, job applications). I have not posted here as much due to these activities and some, like job applications, are not very exciting things to discuss on the blog. However there are a couple of concepts and ideas that are worth briefly discussing, in the hopes that it will motivate me to devote more time to them in the coming months. So, here are a couple of topics swimming in my head right now…

Porticoes: I have two upcoming presentations that I am working on (details here). Originally, I had planned to write two completely separate papers on different aspects of my work (motivating me to write and formulate more particular approaches, ideas, etc). Instead, the two presentations will draw on case studies of porticoes from Ostia. In preparing these presentations, I keep returning to the experienced difference of portico architecture within the social space of streets. At a basic level, the portico is shaded and separated from the street. In auditory terms, the portico and street are different auditory fields, however the two fields influence each other. When the acoustic properties of street canyons are modelled, in instances where porticoes exist, the properties show a marked progression towards the acoustic properties of Ostia’s main street, the decumanus. In a way, certain streets approach the auditory character of the decumanus with the addition of porticoes. The chronology further emphasises the experienced character of the space, which is replicated to various degrees in other places across the city. Streets that could never reach the scale of the decumanus are able to mimic its auditory experience through more controlled and smaller scale developments. I will be testing some of these ideas this next week, when I present in Kiel, Germany.

Embodiment: Several books, lectures and writings have brought embodiment back to the forefront of what I am doing. I picked up Terry Eagleton’s new book, Materialism, and he makes a case for the importance of embodiment in Marx, as well as other forms of materialism. Tied into the emphasis on embodiment is the role of the senses as ways of measuring urban space or embodiment as site of particular forms of knowledge gleaned from the senses. These are not new ideas for me, but they are beginning to crystallise in particular ways (as well as focusing my generally scattered interests). Much of these ideas will appear in my presentations coming up, although they are primarily in the background and theory behind the presentations.

Finally, street cries: Street noise is one of the primary topics in my work and one that I continue dig into. After the winter holidays, I read through a series of books on Paris in the 18th and 19th century. Street criers, sellers and vendors were a part of the landscape of the city in that period and changes to the architecture of Paris were expressed in relation to street noise. There are some parallels with the ancient world, although comparisons need to be cautiously approached. What I find most useful, however, is the theoretical implication of much of this work, which builds bridges between social, political and economic aspects of the senses and their spatial settings. In short, as the topography of Paris changes, the sensorium likewise changes; these shifts produce different social, political and economic spatialities. Rome, I would argue, undergoes parallel changes in many ways. To say that architectural changes that alter the topography of Rome change the experience of the city is obvious. However, what need further study are the particularities of these changes.

How did the addition of porticoes change the way sellers utilised street space? What are the economic implications? Or social? Or political, for that matter? Do street traders change tactics in response to the development of porticoes along streets? Some of these questions have begun to be addressed in various ways. Sarah Bond’s new book, Trade & Taboo: Disreputable Professions in the Roman Mediterranean, address aspects of social stigmas towards criers and auctioneers (praeco). In particular, Bond emphasises the changing nature of such social stigmas from the late Republic to late antiquity. The emphasis on changing stigmas, parallels my own interest in changing urban forms. In a different context, Arjan Zuiderhoek, in The Ancient City (part of the Key Themes in Ancient History series), discusses (briefly) street sellers in terms of a wider understanding of ancient cities. Zuiderhoek covers a similar longue durée of ancient history, although he highlights continuity in city formations, focusing instead more on the archaeological material and current debates. Both are recent publications, which highlight some of the areas for further investigation.

Hopefully, in the coming months some of these ideas will formulate into even more coherent research agendas, possible publications and further blog posts. In the meantime, it’s back to presentation prep and editing a chapter due by the end of the month…

The [Ancient] Urban Revolution

This is the second post in a series on Lefebvre & Ancient Space, the project description is here. Page references are to the 2003 University of Minnesota translation by Robert Bononno with a forward by Neil Smith, available here.

In the opening line, Lefebvre sets out the hypothesis for The Urban Revolution: ‘society has been completely urbanised’ (1). This opening hypothesis requires definition and Lefebvre continues ‘an urban society is a society that results from a process of complete urbanisation’ (1). In contrast, and causing confusion, urban society is used by others to refer to any urban agglomeration or city, whether the Greek polis, oriental or medieval cities, commercial or industrial cities, small cities, the megalopolis (1). However, ‘urban society’ cannot be applied to all phases in the history of the city only to the particular phase following industrialisation (2). The categories of cities are important, as they draw on the general phases of the history of the city in Marxist thought (discussed in a previous post). Lefebvre uses a space-time axis of urbanisation to signpost the division of time, one part of the history of the urban, that is abstract, arbitrary and gives rise to periodisation that have no privilege over other divisions (7). It is worth noting that this is not a history of urbanism, a point Lefebvre draws out at the end of chapter two (41). Three categories correspond to historical cities, which lead to a ‘critical phase’ of current urbanisation, and are placed on the space-time axis: the political city, mercantile city, and industrial city. While Lefebvre’s main concern is with understanding the critical phase, one is required to trace the development to understand the current urban reality.

In Marxist Thought and the City, Lefebvre connects the political city with the ancient city and draws out the implications for social relations (see post here). The ancient city politically dominated the countryside and public and private ownership of property marked the space of the ancient city (Marxist Thought and the City, 29, 77-80). The same definition of the political city is found in The Urban Revolution (8-9; see Marxist Thought and the City, 29), but the discussion opens up the several aspects of the categorisation. The political city closely follows, or accompanies, from the establishment of organised of social life, agriculture and the village (8). For this reason, Lefebvre places the political city at the origin of the space-time axis (8). Socially the political city is made up of priest, warriors, princes, ’nobles’, military leaders, as well as scribes and administrators (8). Writing is necessary for the operation of the political city and it is given over to power, through orders and decrees (8). This implies exchange, which is needed to gain the materials for warfare and excreting power, and artisans and workers to fashion such items (8). What Lefebvre lays out is the material forms of the social and political organisation of the ancient city, although without the use of the term ‘ancient city’. Here we see one of the challenges with Lefebvre: discussion of a single concept spans several writings and, at times, without direct reference to each other.

The transition between the political city to the mercantile city, according to Lefebvre, is precisely over exchange and the integration of markets and merchandise (both people and things) into the city (9). The political city is dependent on exchange however, control and power are excessed to manage such spaces. Spaces of exchange are marked by signs of heterotopy, which are at the outset excluded from the political city (9). Clearly with Foucault’s use of the term in mind, Lefebvre places heterotopia in a different register that of places of informal exchange: caravansaries, fairgrounds and suburbs (N. Smith, ‘Forward’ to The Urban Revolution, xii). It is this process of integration, which Lefebvre notes took centuries, of heterotypic spaces into the city that marked the shift to the mercantile city. For Lefebvre, this does not fully happen until the late Middle Ages and prior to this it was the space of assembly (the agora or forum) at the centre of the city (10). The transition to the merchant city saw an associated shift in the urban form, as exchange became an urban function embodied in the this new city structure (10). Lefebvre dates this transition to the fourteenth century and emphasis the three elements in the transition of form, function and structure (10-1). At a certain point, and Lefebvre does not give a specific date, there was a shift in the relationship between city and countryside (11).

The relationship between city and countryside is discussed at length in Marxist Thought and the City and here, references is focused on the shift from countryside to city in the merchant city phase (see the previous post & 11). Lefebvre argues that at this time the individual losses connection with the city, as well as with nature and the countryside (11). Instead the state takes over both the city and countryside, but is veiled from the individual (12). Reason, logos in Lefebvre, is reborn, not attributed to the urban, but as a transcendent ideal (12). Attachment to the material elements of the urban is lost and Lefebvre notes this loss as the cause of decline in Athens and Rome (one of the few direct references to Rome, 12). At the same time as the rationalism, which culminates in Descartes, the importance of urban life comes to the fore and an image of the city emerges (12).

Lefebvre maintains the importance of exchange and commerce, which imply forms of capital, in the transitions between city phases. Industrial cities emerge from the development of industrial capital and the growth of markets, just as the mercantile city was grafted onto the political city before it (13). There is little reference to the ancient city in the rest of the chapter and, as we have seen in Marxist Thought and the City, Lefebvre argues for social relationships being constituted in the physical and conceptual idea of the city. That is the form, function and structure of the city embody the particular social relationships of that given culture.

Chapter two, ‘Blind field’, again has limited reference to the ancient city, but deserves some close consideration. The theoretical importance of the argument will be apparent and it frames some of the arguments in other writings. The space-time axis, which Lefebvre introduces in the previous chapter, leads to a virtual object (complete urbanisation) (23). In reference to the previous city forms, each successive form allows the previous to be understood. Thus, the breakdown of the precapitalist and preindustrial city, caused by the introduction of capital and industry, allows for the industrial city to be understood; the mercantile city enables the comprehension of the prior political city (23). In this respect, complete urbanisation, a virtual object (the 100% point on the space-time axis), allows for understanding the current form of the city, despite the fact that the complete urbanisation has not yet happened and creates a blind field in social theory (29).

Lefebvre brings in another triple division in phases in the space-time axis: the rural (peasant), the industrial, and the urban (28). These phases are ‘not simply social phenomena but sensations and perceptions, spaces and times, images and concepts, language and rationality, theories and social practices’ (28). In the transition between these phases, the previous phase blinds one to the next phase; the urban is understood by concepts derived from industrialisation (29). Here we see one of Lefebvre’s driving forces in his spatial theory. Theory, as well as philosophy, needs to move beyond the confines of its own production; that is the contemporary city must be understood through theories that have moved beyond those of the prior industrial city. ‘Field’, for Lefebvre, indicates not an approach but, a global concept of a succession of periods and the periods taken individually (32). That is not simply layers of facts or phenomena but, modes of thought, action and life (32).

The urban is a new field, according to Lefebvre, poorly understood and unknown (36). As a new field, urban thought needs reorient itself to the blind field by focusing on social, spatial and temporal differences (37). Another triptych of concepts is introduced in order to understand these differences: isotopy, heterotopy and utopia (37-8). Any place and its surrounding area (neighbourhood, immediate environment)no matter the geographical distance, is an isotopy; that is anything that makes a place the same place, a homologous or analogous place (37-8). Within that place, however, there is always another place, a different place, which is heterotopy (38). A ‘incision-suture’ space, a neutral space, is necessary to differentiate the juxtaposed spaces, which take the form of streets, squares, intersections, gardens or parks (38). However there is also an elsewhere, a non-place, which is the utopia (38). This utopia is not an abstract imaginary but, a real place connected to situations of people (individuals and groups) associated with divinity, power or the imaginary (38). Lefebvre is clearly engaged with Foucault’s idea of heterotopia, but as Neil Smith notes, Lefebvre invokes heterotopia at a more ‘critical register’ that of renegade commercial exchange, politically and geographically independent from the political city (xii). In reference to utopia, Lefebvre draws on the concept of monumentality, especially in relation to the ancient city, as the site of utopia (38-9).

In chapter five, ‘Urban myths and ideologies’, Lefebvre discusses the myth of Atlantis in Plato’s Critias (104-5). The myth of Atlantis serves to introduce Lefebvre’s definitions of myth, ideology and utopia, which are discussed throughout the chapter. Lefebvre begins by posing the question of whether Atlantis could be classified as an urban myth (104). In ancient Greece, as seen in Marxist Thought and the City (2016: 78-82), the political city dominated its surrounding territory, whether villages or peasant groups (104). Plato, thus, applies philosophical thought to the problem of the ancient city, that is the problem of the ancient city’s rational and threatened institutions (105).

The city also offers political thought a ‘re-presentation’ of its political existence (105). This presentation is specific to the city but, not dependent on the institutions associated with the city (105). This creates a utopia inherent in urban thought; one that has urban and agrarian sources (105). But Lefebvre asks, is Critias not a philosophical discourse consisting of myth, ideology and utopia (105)? In this case, myth is non-institutional discourse; ideology is the discourse of institutions; and utopia transcends the institutions by using myths (105). Non-institutional discourse, however, cannot be spoken by anyone or in any place. It requires a specific or specialist group, such as Greek philosophers (105). The triple concepts of myth, ideology and utopia create work together and require conflicts and contradictions to be managed through magic (105). Art is a form of such magic and Greek tragedy can be seen as the working out of conflicts between the city and countryside; the city gives birth to an Apollonian spirit, while the countryside gives birth to a Dionysian (106). The repetition of tragedy therefore becomes a second-order event; a controlled mimicry of the city and countryside conflict played out on the theatre stage and offering a glimpse of the future city (106). Drawing on another of Lefebvre’s primary influences, it is a Nietzschean reading of Greek tragedy mapped onto the city and countryside. The ancient city is threatened by various forces and tragic themes are attributable to the urban, just as agricultural themes were absorbed by the city (106). Tragedy, in this context, is the resolution of a series of conflicts within the ancient city: law versus custom, justice verse violence, the individual verse the brutal community (106). However, these resolutions are not urban myths, which mark the moment when the modern city begins to take shape (106). In comparison to Marxist Thought and the City, Lefebvre here focuses on the social, rather than political or economic, implications of Greek tragedy within a history of the city. It is not phases within this history, as in the first chapter, but, social and philosophical conceptions that are grounded in the city.

The Urban Revolution has a number of interesting threads that relate to various aspects of Lefebvre’s other works. As Neil Smith points out in the introduction, in many ways The Urban Revolution is a precursor to The Production of Space (xii), although grounded in the political immediacy of Paris in the late 1960s, early 1970s (xiii). However, The Urban Revolution also maintains connections with Lefebvre’s earlier Metaphilosophy (1965) and Critique of Everyday Life (vol 1: 1947, 2nd ed. 1958; vol 2: 1961). Lefebvre contextualises metaphilosophy within his discussion of urban phenomenon and the production of models (64-67). The critique of everyday life appears in discussion of urban strategies (139-140). In a way, The Urban Revolution shows the divergent themes in Lefebvre’s work focused on a particular issue, urban society. There are also several points and discussions that do not appear in the later The Production of Space, especially the discussion of nature and Heidegger’s sense of dwelling (‘habiting’). For unknown reasons, these topics are not picked-up again by Lefebvre, although Heidegger appears in the unpublished Toward an Architecture of Enjoyment (written just before The Production of Space). Further parallels will be drawn out in the discussion of those texts, but that does not lessen their importance here. Again, the emphasis in The Urban Revolution is on understanding urban society today and attempting to move beyond older modes of analysis indebted to the industrial city. In that sense, the transition from ancient city to medieval city is placed within the broader transition from the political city to the industrial city.

Marxist Thought & the [Ancient] City

This is the first post in a series discussing Lefebvre’s use of ancient Rome in his writings. You can find a brief description of the project here. Page numbers refer to the new English translation by Robert Bononno with forward by Stuart Elden, available here.

Originally published in 1972, Marxist Thought and the City came out in the period when Lefebvre was most occupied with the city and urban questions. As we will see, the majority of writings, which make reference to the ancient city, are from the mid-1960s to mid-70s. It is interesting to trace the strands of thought in Lefebvre that draw on the ancient city, as they weave multiple threads, rather than a single line. My own interests in urban history, Roman urbanism and theoretical approaches to the city made Lefebvre a natural source for critically questioning ideas and concepts of space. It has become common to cite The Production of Space in studies of Roman urbanism, although these citations are never to Lefebvre’s use of ancient materials and rather references to either the challenge in defining space or his tripartite division of space in the first chapter. Therefore, this series of posts hopes to draw attention to the way the ancient city and space are part of Lefebvre’s historical work and, which has more to say about ancient urbanism than is usually given credit.

In Marxist Thought and the City, Lefebvre traces the fragmentary references to the city and urban problems in the works of Marx and Engels. While described as Lefebvre’s most theoretical work on the city, it is heavily indebted to Marxist thought in general, and Marx’s own writing in particular. Lefebvre notes the limited and fragmentary nature of references at the outset (xv). Thus, Marxist Thought and the City forms a ‘thematic rereading’ of Marx and Engels on the city and the urban problematic within the context of historical materialism (xv). Within this thematic rereading, reference is made to the ancient city within the conceptualisation of history and praxis (26-31). In general, discussion focuses on the ‘ancient city’ as a phase in the history of capitalism, rather than the particulars of Greek or Roman cities, as seen in Lefebvre’s other writings (like The Production of Space or Toward an Architecture of Enjoyment). For these reasons, Marxist Thought and the City provides an introduction to one strand of Lefebvre’s engagement with the ancient world, namely the city within the history of capitalism. In some of his other writings, Roman space and cities are discussed as comparative examples in the production of space and as part of the history of the city.

The first chapter, ‘The Situation of the Working Class in England’, looks at the early work of Engels and Lefebvre notes the twofold centralisation within the city that Engels analyses within capitalism: the concentration of population accompanies a concentration of capital (3). All the elements of industry are gathered in the city and, in England, every industrial region is a single city (3). Lefebvre draws out the important differences in Marx and Engels approaches. For Marx, current events clarify the past. The relationship between city and country in the ancient and Medieval periods follows from the differentiation of people from animals through labour in the opening of The German Ideology (6). Engels has a less retrospective view, focusing on modern cities to a level Marx never does (6). Throughout the book, the city of antiquity is seen in contrast to the city of the Middle Ages: ‘Antiquity began with the city while the Middle Ages (Western, European) began with the countryside’ (29). This overarching theme, of antiquity and the Middle Ages, is part of the Marxist tradition inherited by Lefebvre (see his other formulations of the history of the city, Metaphilosophy 2016: 143-4) and the city/countryside conflict is part of Marx’s emphasis in historical materialism (6). Particularities in the Roman or Greek city are not discussed in the book and references remain at the level of ‘ancient city’.

In the second chapter, the division of labour is discussed in terms of its urban aspects. Again, starting from the opening of The German Ideology, production includes reproduction of a way of life (27). The conflict between city and countryside resurfaces, as their separation is the division of labour (28). The quote above on antiquity beginning with the city follows this idea. In antiquity, political cities organised, dominated, protected, administered and exploited their surrounding territories (29). In the case of Greece and Rome, warfare and exchange were exercised to dominate a territory much larger than the cities immediate environment. For Lefebvre, the only major conflict was slaves and citizens in the urban growth of the ancient city (29). In the Middle Ages, these relationships are inverted.

The city serves as the subject of history in Marx and Engels (36-7). The city is introduced by a series of characteristics: a) the city concentrates not only the population, but also that which creates a society (institutions, organisations, instruments of production, capital, needs and pleasures); b) the separation of city and countryside reflects the separation of material and intellectual division of labour. The countryside provides material labour devoid of intellect, while the city provides labour enriched through intellect (37); c) the separation of city and countryside can and must be overcome, same as the division of labour (38). The city-country relationship is a returning theme within throughout the text. Much of the chapter is taken up discussing the city and country division and its relation to the division of labour. There are a number of points worth detailing, but much of it moves way from the ancient city.

Chapter three, ‘Critique of Political Economy’, has the most extensive discussion of the ancient city. Lefebvre begins summarising his argument so far. The transition from the dissolution of the feudal mode of production to capitalism was associated with a subject: the city (60). In comparison with the ‘Asiatic mode of production’, the European West reveals a form of transition from agricultural communities (71-4). The particularities of the Western city’s lineage are tied to the city as a laboratory where nature is an active agent in the development of the city (72-3) and community being detached from nature by nomadism, migration and instability (73-4). The detachment of the social being from nature (nomadism), which leads to warfare as the communal task of such societies (74). In this case, the city is the base of military organisation, while the severing of the immediate connection to nature means the city takes on a characteristic of mediation (75). The ancient urban republics prospered as the individual was placed in a condition were self-substance, the individuals own reproduction as a member of the community, was necessary, not the accumulation of wealth (75).

Drawing on the Grundrisse, the ancient city appears as the second line of development and decline (the first being the oriental city and the third that of the ‘barbarian German’, 77). What separates these lines of development and decline are the forms of ownership (77). The ancient city has two distinct forms of ownership united in the city: private property of the individual and public property, the ager publicus (77). A bipartite relationship is created where an individual is both an equal member of the community (citizen) and an owner. The social unit assumes a communal form, as well as ownership assumes a particular mode of production and relationships among individuals and between their totality and nature (80). What follows is the community as the ‘first great productive force’ (80). The loss of this bipartite relationship is inevitable and in the ancient city it dissolved the mode of production on which the community was based, and with it what made the individual Roman (80).

That is the ancient city politically dominated the countryside, but the countryside economically dominated the city (78). This tension lead to the breakdown of the city (78). Here in using different examples, the dissolution of the relationships between different elements of production gives way to relations of domination (82). In the ancient city, this produced plebeians, ‘demanding bread and circuses’ (82). Relations of domination and servitude are, thus, part of the decay of relations of ownership and production and were, according to Lefebvre, prevalent in Imperial Rome (82).

In the final chapters, Lefebvre turns to ‘Engels and Utopia’ and ‘Capital and Land Ownership’. These studies are full of interesting points, but do not engage with the ‘ancient city’ to the extent of chapter three. In particular, at the end of chapter five (‘Capital and Land Ownership’), Lefebvre lays out how the city is the site, or sites, par excellence of reproduction, which is larger and more complex than production (143). It is apparent in this closing remark that the Lefebvre is thinking in terms of a broader definition of production, one that he sets out in various places. Parallel broad definitions are found in Toward an Architecture of Enjoyment and The Production of Space. For Lefebvre, the city is the site of the reproduction of social relations, as well as the link between the terms of production and labour. In terms of the Roman city, Lefebvre will continue to draw relate the physical city to the social relations, even if at times in a dated scholarly fashion. Marxist Thought and the City offers a good introduction to many of the themes and concepts Lefebvre expands in other writings, as well as placing the ancient city within his own theoretical approach.