Follow....

For this assignment, I decided to target someone on the subway. It was hard to get a clear picture but I took a few shots in their general vicinity. After I chose my subject...an elderly gentleman... I followed him off (conveniently) at the Cipro stop and up the street. He then turned the corner towards the residence and briefly stopped at the hardware store. While he was in the store I quickly ran up the street so I could get a picture of him from the front. I then waited until he passed me and ended my "follow" when he entered my favorite bar.







I thought that this assignment was very interesting because we aren't used to getting led by anyone but ourselves. Typically we have a destination in mind, and even if we are to become lost in the process, reaching the destination is always the intention. I've found that even when I travel I often take the lead and do not like to follow. I like to have a purpose in mind and always have somewhere to go. Additionally, I love way-finding and feel as if I have a new found interest with map reading... This exercise was similar to the others in that it forced you to think about time and place, relative to your loss of control.

The Trastever Chronicles..."STAY"

I think that we truly do not contemplate the concept of
m
o
b
i
l
i
t
y

...until we are forced to sit in one position for two hours. With the completion of this exercise I began to feel as if for some time I must have taken the pleasure of moving from place to place for granted.

I decided to park myself in front of the same sunglass boutique as my respite I took for writing in my journal last Trastevere assignment. I don't exactly know my motivations, but I was curious to see if the same shop owners and workers were still quarrelling. The walk to my little post somewhere in the heart of the area was familiar... my feet seemed to remember my route and I got there with little to no effort at all. That is not to say, however, that my walk was joyful. I had a sinking feeling that the impending task would be difficult for me, as I am hard-pressed to sit for an extended period of time. Although I love observing, I also enjoy moving and doing. For a dancer to sit for two hours in one spot... slightly a challenge.

As soon as I sat down I decided to take in my surroundings. These are some of my notes...

It's extremely early yet and slightly chilly. People have not started their morning hustle... which makes me wonder how many of the residents of our little area of interest have to hustle out of Trastevere. I can't picture this place to sustain any amount of great hustle at all. To my left the flower shop sits unattended. It looks slightly lonely, but also in a way, serene: almost as if the lack of human hands allows the flowers to breathe. On my bench someone had scribbled some incoherent words, along with what looks to be hearts. I feel strange sitting on a drawing, even if it is actually graffitti. In front of me is my little sunglass fashion boutique, not yet open for the day. I wonder if the same clerks will be arguing and running in and out of the store today. As I sit down I feel a sense of excitement, as if I am some Nancy Drew solving the case of the ....... you can fill in the blank.

The excitement has tapered off drastically. Although I have enjoyed watching the old flower shop man come to set up his wares and tend to his plants (that as I mentioned, seemed to enjoy the time alone)... I can't help but feel slightly lonely. There still aren't many people on the street, except for some mothers walking children to school and grandmothers getting an early start for the day.

The sunglass store just opened... the same woman is setting up, but the clerk she likes to yell at isn't working yet. Maybe he is a student too and only puts up with her abuse for some part-time cash. Maybe it's actually her son and she feels that she can yell all she wants (despite the fact that customers are there). OR, maybe he quit after that day. Who knows.

I'm starting to get really bored... at first this activity was cute and somewhat adventurous, but now it's not funny anymore. I'm restless... I wish that someone would come up and talk to me! I can't believe that I am this bored after only thirty minutes...

For my amusement, more people have begun their morning hustle. Maybe it's not for my amusement, but at any rate, it is in fact something to watch. A few businessmen hurry by my in their suits, chatting away. A woman gets on her Vespa in her heels, ready to tackle the day. Everyone's going somewhere... except for me.

I decided to take a stretch break and walk a loop around the flower shop. Some Hispanic women are eyeing the goods and pause to look at me curiously. I'm not furiously scribbling right now, so I probably don't look as creepy. We exchange a quick smile and then they are back on their conquest of finding the right geranium.

A few minutes later I sit back on the bench and hastily get out a postcard from my bag. Might as well utilize this time while I have it. Sorry that (parents) you will see this before you get it!

Dear Mommy and Daddy,

I'm sitting here in a beautiful area of Rome called Trastevere. I decided to come early before class because we had to observe...and you know that I'm the queen of last minute adventures. This postcard is of a Castle right by the residence. I've yet to visit it, but I am in fact going to the Vatican on Thursday (not like last time when we were content with the view!). I hope that things are going well at home and with grandma... Irene, Salvo, and Guiseppe called me yesterday! It's so nice to finally be able to talk to them in Italian:) I hate that I've already run out of space to write (I must have forgotten how tiny postcards really are). Back to my observer's post. Tanti Baci!! Julie

I'm on the last leg of my two hours and it's nice to see more and more people walking around. Although people definitely aren't as curious as the other afternoon... I surmise it's because they are much more rushed in their morning hustle. 15 minutes to go!!

DONE. relief, pride and soreness (haha).

The Trastevere Chronicles..."Drifting, Lost, and Maps"

It's funny: It always works out that the assignments or activities that seem the most daunting... or that you simply just do not want to do at all... turn out to be the best experiences. Case in point... as we were assigned to simply drift through a new part of Rome, I at first felt relatively uneasy. Although my Italian is improving by the day, finding the right mode of transportation to Trastevere seemed confusing and I felt hestitant at the prospect of going somewhere alone . I guess I don't take time to do much alone in general and some of my trepidation must have been a direct result of this. I decided to re-trace the route that Lisa and I used on Monday after class. I took the metro to Lepanto and proceeded to find the bus to Trastevere. There the real adventure began.

On the bus I met two elderly Italian men who wanted nothing more than to be my guide turistice... As we cruised the Tiber, they happily noted points of interest and gave me tips about finding my way in Trastevere. When we arrived by the Garibaldi bridge I said goodbye to my new friends and proceeded to begin my drift. I decided to first explore sans map, playing the role of silent observer and taking an abundance of notes. Later in my journey I decided to finally pinpoint my location on the map, where I had walked, and finally where I hoped to go.

LOST and MAPS: The idea of being lost isn't very appealing. Yet, when I finally let go of my fear and somewhat embraced the concept, I found that "lost" does not always have a negative connotation. In Trastevere I learned that being lost...and truly attempting to be a wandering observer...could be a rather liberating experience. I found the area to be charming: the people and the sights were enchanting, and the feeling I got walking around was so new, yet familiar. I felt comfortable in Trastevere, like I was revisiting a happy childhood...

Map-wise, I did bring a map along with me. Yet, as I previously mentioned, I decided against using it for the first part of my journey (is it really a journey if you don't have a destination in mind??) Typically I don't carry a map with me on a daily basis. I think I would almost rather be lost and ask for directions than look like a tourist...the very idea of busting out a huge, colorful map in public, for some reason, seems slighty embarassing. I like attempting to look like a fellow Italian traveler, and the phrase "When in Rome..." seems especially meaningful. Not to mention, of course, that I like practicing my Italian when I ask for directions and advice.

Below are the notes I took while drifting (many looked at me quizzically, curious as to why I was scribbling in a small, orange book...



Walked to Piazza di Calisto, bustling and full of people. Everyone seems like an observer themselves, people-watching from packed cafes. There are people of all ages, cobblestone streets, narrow alleyways, an abundance of flowers everywhere: in windows, archways, balconies, and the buildings look as perfect as a movie set...to the point where they look almost fabricated.

The sky is nearly cloudless, wrought iron and wooden shutters all around... I decided to sit in front of a fashion/eyeglass boutique, where I watched as one very fashionable male employee quarrelled with a woman inside. Above the store a woman sat in her window, laundry hanging from the balcony, quietly peering down at the street below.



Lost is such a strange feeling for me: for the first time I have no idea where I am, cannot pinpoint my location on a map; yet I don't know if I really care. I feel self-concious about my flip flops (Romans don't wear them!), thin tank top (the wind is kicking up!), and a small stain that I noticed on my white skirt. I now look to my map and only look up when a bum that passed by wished me "Buonasera."

A few minutes later I ran into a gelato vendor that we had met a few evenings before. I ran into him in the park...he was on his way to work...and although I couldn't recall his name or how exactly I knew him, I did not forget his face.

As I walked down Viale di Trastevere I found more random side markets with numerous Middle-Eastern and Asian vendors. This street did not look "Trastevere" at all, but rather similar to a busy Roman street lined with trash and vespas. I still have no idea how to get home...

I decided to stop for a cappucino and pastery...I felt as if I was breaking the "fourth wall." Somehow at the end of my journey I found my way back to the beginning...

Internal and External Maps...

I was really intrigued by the idea of mapping relationships not easily correlated. Although we associate certain emotions with each experience, I attempted to construct an internal map that is somewhat "continual." Emotions are perpetually changing and re-arranging and my map is a semblance of my feelings. I tried to format my map like one you might find in a book, as you must read it using a key (ex: A1=tired, etc). This is the same key that must be used to read my external map, which I formed into a cube. My external map dipicts what I physically did from Wednesday evening until Sunday, yet is definitely still laced with emotions and feeling...

monday morning/back.to.school

This is a look at the last leg of my weekend journey... the trip through the green gates, back once again to school. Barcelona seems to be so far away now, yet my internal and external maps keep my wonderful trip an indelible experience in my mind.

about. transitions. invisible. cities. &. technology

As for the technology photo assignment, some things were
o b v i o u s: the unique outlets and locks, archaic kitchenware and machines, boxy surveillance cameras, etc. However, I think it's interesting to note that although Roma seems to be sorely lagging in the high-tech department, some technologies and solutions are the norm here. While walking through Piazza di Spagna today to pick up my (old school) rental cell phone, I observed the very reason why banks remain so secure that bank robberies are nearly unheard of here: the high-tech, menacing, rotating, one-person-at-a-time entrance. The very thought of someone pulling off any sort of heist is beyond my comprehension. It's things like the revolving bank door, the dependable metro system...inherent technologies...that keep me from saying that Roma is entirely behind.

For my invisible cities assignment, I tried to keep in mind an interesting idea presented in one of the readings. I really liked the reference to cities of the past; time and spacial references to things that once were. Most of my images, I feel, depict a sense of change and may even spark curiosity. For example, the picture I took of the dead bird on my daily route to school, which I noticed day after day: What is the reason for the plethora of feathers on the ground outside one certain building? Why here...and why do they never get swept away with the ritual street cleansing?

The idea of transitions from public to private life, and vice-versa, is a very intriguing concept. Our reading discussed the pedestrian nature of the neighborhood vs. the motor vehicle grind of the metropolis. I thought of that classification while walking the streets of my own neighborhood here in Roma and searching for subjects of which to photograph. On a street adjacent to our own, I found a number of prime examples of transitions from public to private. This car...a very private mobile setting thrust into a public street...with a note on it.

Satellites attached to residential buildings, transmitting very public information into a private venue.

Balconies, perfect settings for intimate conversations...turned public by their placement (This corresponds to the reading's reference to patios and the division between public and private in the home as well. The front yard is entirely public, groomed for show; the back yard and it's patio privately holds conversations. Here in Roma, patios become inter-meshed with public life, just as a cell phone conversation turns public in a crowded piazza.

I am continually intrigued by the concept of video surveillance: you can feel entirely alone, yet just as our residence porter's monitor shows, you are constantly being watched.

Finally, I love the idea of reflections and mirrors assisting in transitions. How many people do you see each day walking past a glass building and glancing at their reflection? Do they look out of place quickly smoothing stray pieces of hair and fixing their posture, or is it the norm? I myself do this all the time: I think vanity is part of human nature. For this photo, I attempted to show how mirrors (and reflections) located in a public place can make a seemingly private moment just the opposite.

Invisible Cities