frannyflaneur

This weekend brings forth two very important occasions-- London Pride and my designated ticket to the Wallace Collection to see the Portraits of Dogs Collection. Obviously, one of these is more relevant to our class than the other, so I will simply include some of the dog portraits for your enjoyment. On the other hand, London Pride took the city by storm as its 2 mile parade celebrated Queer joy for the entire Saturday afternoon. From Queers on Wheels, to the Heartstopper cast, to even Coke Zero, groups banded together participate in the occasion. This is my second pride parade, with my first being last June in New York. It was really interesting for me to experience this celebration both time outside of my hometown or Tallahassee-- especially with Florida politics becoming more and more conservative. Last year, Pride in New York was planned just a few days after Roe v Wade was overturned, making the right to abortion for all genders and individuals a recurring theme in the protest aspect. This time around, I saw extra support for trans rights and banning conversion therapy. Now, trans rights are always a necessary topic of conversation, however I was interested to find out that this topic is extremely relevant to Londoners as anti-trans legislation is being written up and possibly passed as we speak. Not only that, but I’ve happened to see a lot of conversion therapy flyers and speakers around London (disgusting!). Unfortunately, I’m used to these kinds of conversations in the states, but I’m surprised to hear them coming from places like London and New York who market them self as diverse and safe spaces for all different identities. This goes to show another attempt at a global city branding themself as one way, but actively going against this marketing in local governments. However, I feel extremely proud of my community for coming together to use their power as residents here to voice their opinions on these legislations and fight for what they know is right. 

With the promise of Turkish food, I’ve been ready to visit Harringay all week. I was surprised to see just how residential it was, especially when I was expecting something similar to Brick Lane as both places are hubs for different cultures. Instead of graffitied walls and shops though, I instead walked my way through a very typical (and very American looking) community. This was the first time since I arrived in May that I’ve seen a gas station or local strip-mall equipped with a grocery store and pharmacy! It was kind of silly how excited I got over that, but I’ve been in the city mentality for so long that I kind of forgot that those were the norm-- at least, versus long streets of designer and souvenir shops like Oxford Street. It was especially interesting to see this area so quiet when it’s right next to Finsbury Park, a common venue for music festivals and concerts (it was even setting up for a festival to take place on the 2nd!) I am so used to venues like these being in more central city areas to provide food, entertainment, and shopping to concert goers before and after the show, and I can’t imagine how an influx of people attending these shows would disrupt the quiet community. On the other hand, this aspect of commodifying a public space like Finsbury Park for shows also gives the opportunity for outsiders to explore the town and eat at these local restaurants, but unlike Brick Lane, Harringay is not so much known to tourists as a place to dine in at delicious Turkish restaurants. Thus, Harringay can definitely be used as an example to weigh the pros and cons of urbanization, and as a result, gentrification, in smaller spaces. 

When I was younger, one of my dream schools to go to was always Oxford-- to me, it always represented the height of academia in London. Today I visited the second height of academia in London, Oxford’s rival, Cambridge University. Living in Tallahassee for the three years I’ve attended FSU, I thought I had at least an idea for what to expect from this college town, and in a way, my expectations were met. Similar to FSU, there was a big centralized circle of a campus that housed all the different schools, libraries and different from FSU, cathedrals, rivers, and punting boats. Just outside of this campus was a bunch of shops and restaurants, very centrally located and I would say walkable from the all the schools around. I could maybe compare this to Collegetown back in Tallahassee, except with more pubs instead of unnecessary clubs with pools, and much bigger. About a 30 minute walk outside of the central town was Cambridge’s Tennessee, Pensecola, and Tharpe streets. These were also littered with shops and restaurants but were more residential rather than geared towards students. The most shocking thing about Cambridge was just how DIFFERENT it was from central London. I guess I didn’t really clock a the change from moving to a big city like Miami to a place like Tallahassee, (most likely because I lived in one of it’s many suburbs) but the shift today was extremely evident. Not only was it nice to be away from big, shiny buildings and loud cars, but the slower pace, open air, and older aesthetic was a welcome change. Similar to what I said in my Notting Hill post, this was another place that felt almost untouched by gentrification. This is most likely a result of trying to maintain Cambridge’s aesthetic and history, however, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t tell other effects of globalization on the town, such as marketing it as one of the “necessary day trips” to make when you’re staying in the city. 

This Tuesday brings us back to Brick Lane, but now that I’ve visited once before, I can look at it with a new lens. Funnily enough, our class reading and discussion touched a lot upon my initial thoughts about the town, which I included in my first Brick Lane blog posting. So, this time around, I’m going to focus on the role of public art in urbanization (or, the effect of gentrification on public artists)-- which is a topic I’ve been playing with since our tour of Bankside with Antony. However, that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep my eye on the vintage shops and the people they attracted (most of them were walking into the gourmet tea and chocolate shops after their thrift trip). I simply kept a closer eye on the graffiti, murals, and posters, as well as what messages they were trying to convey and where they were located. Brick Lane reminds me a lot of the arts district in my hometown called Wynwood-- in the 80′s and 90′s, this was a space for graffiti and mural artists to band together and express themselves through their craft. Art ranged from tags, to responses against politics, or to just creative designs. Despite the beauty and hard work behind these large pieces of art, they were always frowned upon and often tried to be fixed by the city, under the impression that the graffiti made the already lower-class area look poorer, and these actions were considered crimes. This did not stop the artists though--so much so that Wynwood became known for its murals and the designated location for Miami’s annual art festival, Art Basel. This however, drastically changed the values of the space, and now Wynwood is mostly for consumption; what used to be community work are now often commissioned by local government and you must pay to view it. This new definition of “public art” was only deemed appropriate when it was used as an incentive to make money (and most likely, it’s art that doesn’t make any blatant remarks on politics or capitalism, some of the foundational values of counter culture and thus, graffiti artists). Brick Lane currently seems to be in its “early Wynwood” stages, where any artist is able to contribute to decorating the streets. Even walking around today I saw artists pasting up posters and working with spray paint. This use of public art says a lot about the space and those who live there-- in the eyes of early Miami government, it may even be used against Brick Lane and further label itself negatively as a lower-working class environment. On the other hand, it aids to the hipster culture that Brick Lane is currently using as branding to bring people in to their vintage meccas and record stores. I wonder how long Brick Lane will remain a safe space for public art and artists, before local government starts using it moreso to their advantage. 

As I walk to Prince Charles Cinema to catch Blue Velvet tonight, I can’t help but approach Chinatown the way that I’ll now be approaching Brick Lane. What has always been a space of rich culture a tradition-- not only through food, but music, attitude, decor and attire alike-- now solidifies in my mind as (what I now know to be) an urban enclave designed for consumerism. But what did it look like before this? Who was there before the boba shops and dim sum restaurants? Chinatown may be a space for individuals from all across Asia to reside and set up shop, but at the end of the day, I keep asking myself the question of “whose city is it,” especially with the knowledge of how Chinatown is used by London’s representatives to brand the whole of the city as more diverse. 

With another day comes another opportunity to explore somewhere new-- today’s choice was Notting Hill. Just as expected from one of my fave rom-coms of the same name, Notting Hill was was a quiet, quaint, and almost suburban little town just west of the study center. Similar to Brick Lane, the streets were filled with small vintage shops, book stores, and local cafes; however, unlike Brick Lane, these places seemed to fit the space in which they resided. Were there pieces just as expensive in the vintage shops I found before? Absolutely. Did I pick up a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh that cost 2,500 pounds? You bet I did. But in the context of squeaky clean streets and white and blue townhouses (and the Teslas, BMWs, and Mercedes-es parked in front of them) I wasn’t necessarily surprised. From what I was able to explore, Notting Hill felt almost untouched by gentrification, rather, that it had been an upper class space all along. However, there were definitely some aspects to the town that we have mentioned in class, such as the church-turned-sample-sale-space we came across. Dozens of designer brands jammed into a holy space for locals and tourists alike to browse and shop (by shop, I mean spend at least 100 pounds)— thus, an example of a mixed-use space in this quaint town.

Warning: Don’t read if you’re hungry, this one’s a food blog. 

In attempts to connect more concepts from our class with what we learned on our tour with Antony, one thing I can’t stop thinking about is culture, and particularly, it’s relation to food. Antony had made a throw-away joke about British cuisine being notoriously bad and how that’s only been fixed by naming the national dish chicken tikka masala; however, he left us in one of the most famous food markets in the world. Upon closer exploration of Borough Market, I noticed that it wasn’t the British food that made it so famous-- aside from the few fish and chips and steak pie stands, there actually wasn’t much British food at all-- but the variety of international stands that you could choose from. After our conversation about culture being more an image thing than a communal one, I realized that food, one of the most important aspects of culture, plays into this as well. British food has always had a reputation for being gross, and while this is one bland detail amongst a bunch of brighter ones that make London wonderful, cuisine is a huge factor in bringing people in to visit a city. When London realized they can’t effectively advertise beans on toast, you start to hear more about how good the Indian food is, or the dim sum in Chinatown, or how visiting Little Venice is a must. Pedro Pascal has even turned a little Chilean bakery into such a sensation that they bumped the price of their empanadas to 8 pounds (which coming from a Latina patron of a small Cuban bakery at home that’s CRAZY and UNHEARD OF). These spaces have helped label London into a hub of international food and culture, using that as one of their biggest selling points when painting the image of the global city. Anyways, here’s some of the different foods I’ve been eating around the city. 

After a month and a half of hearing very good things, I finally made my way to Brick Lane following today’s (quite uneventful, to be honest) excursion to the Tower of London; however, viewing them one right after another allowed a great opportunity to compare and contrast them for differences in their urbanization process. Located two stops away on the Elizabeth Line and just past Spittalfields, Brick Lane is another artistic, more working class hub that is known for its selection of Indian cuisine and vintage shops. It has a similar grit to Bankside, but provides shops, restaurants, and experiences for seemingly, all members of the community to experience.  This definitely makes for a town to draw in a diverse crowd, as well as the recognizable lack of what i’m going to call “business” or “financial” gentrification Brick Lane’s main area. However, what I noticed instead was an abundance of smaller gentrification practices, mostly through the guise of trendy vintage and antique stores. What could’ve been spaces that once housed small businesses, family-owned restaurants, or local markets or co-ops to provide for the community, are now Vivienne Westwood resellers, Burberry coat croppers, and Depop influencers-- or in other words, members of my generation (usually identifying as the British equivalent of the States’ “Liberal”), who are part of a more alternative scene and most likely posting that gentrification is bad on their Instagram stories. While this definitely attracts a “diverse” and younger crowd to an area that may have not have interested before, it also completely overshadows (and disadvantages) the older, and probably poorer, community that works and lives there. With every vintage shop I walked into, I couldn’t find a general piece (that is, something that isn’t a rare Gualtier tank top from the 90′s) under 25 pounds. How can you expect the family running the bagel shop next door, selling half a dozen bagels for 2 pounds, to be able to afford that? This is also a huge issue in the working class art districts of Miami, especially so close to spaces where up and coming graduates are ready to start their own businesses. Both places have turned an activity like thrifting, usually necessary and affordable for/to working class individuals, into a hip commodity, forcing them out of their community to to do so. What I’m trying to say is, gentrification isn’t always sky scrapers next to social housing, but also vintage shops, film photography developers, local cinemas with expensive membership requirements, and more. 

Our afternoon expedition to the South Bank was not only extremely enlightening, but also just very pleasant! I was surprised to learn that the South Bank was considered a more industrial space since towns like Liverpool or Manchester hold that title. South bank definitely had a different feel to it than Bloomsbury did— a little grittier, more outwardly diverse, more obviously gentrified, but most important to me, much more charming. I was a little shocked to hear that gentrification from the business district was slowly but surely crossing the bridge and infringing on this space, especially due to it’s history of regenerating or building different buildings to establish it as an artistic and cultural site (such as turning the coal plant into the Tate Modern and preservation of The Globe and the space around it). It is unfortunate to see a place that has turned itself around so much since the mid-19th century slowly become gentrified and and push the community out. However, it is refreshing to see ethical, sustainable urbanization and community projects such as Better Bankside support these spaces, and have visible positive results. While there were obvious signs of gentrification, what shined out most to me about Bankside where these bits of a diverse community that are able to remain due to support from business improvement districts and community resilience. Cultural food stands, The Africa Center, murals from local artists, and +++ were some of my favorite highlights. I truly hope that the community stays strong in this constant battle with gentrification, and continues to grow and urbanize in a way that is for the community, and not just to bring in outsiders for profit. 

In our discussions regarding urbanization so far, one topic we haven’t necessarily covered in depth yet is the development of public transportation. I’m going to jump just a bit ahead as I felt extra appreciative of the Tube today. The first global city that always comes to my mind is New York City; furthermore, one of the first few things I associate with New York City is the subway. Not only does the subway provide accessible transport for New York’s residents, but it has also become an immediately recognizable symbol for the city in general. Going back to our earlier readings, this equates New York as a symbolic space, representing the subway, the Big Apple, etc. Similarly, London is also a symbolic space with icons like The Big Ben, the London Eye, and of course, the tube. This leads me to believe that we can look at the tube as one of the most significant representations of London’s urbanization. It shows progression of technology and represents efficiency, turns London into a walkable city which makes it more accessible to both locals and tourists (and is a huge requisite for global cities), as well as gives a logo to print on tote bags or shirts to sell at every street corner. If a global city is two things-- its touristic and accessible, and the tube makes London both. 

Despite everyone’s concerns that I would have nothing to do in Liverpool, my first day actually seemed to prove them quite wrong. Following a wonderful introduction of the city’s history by Dr. Paul, including details such as the site of Albert Docks representing the start of slavery and the town adjacent, the start of The Beatles, I took off walking to get to know the area. With myself just visiting Manchester and hearing all about its industrial history, I couldn’t help but feel just how much more Liverpool embodied an industrial feel. The tall brick buildings and their towering windows against the sea fleet like I was placed on the set of On The Waterfront, where you could almost feel the stories of the laborers through the brick. However, as I looked closer at these buildings, I noticed that they had been converted from packing and trade sites to a variety of museums, restaurants, and even some shops. The repurposing of these structures while keeping their original foundations allowed for the industrial feel of Liverpool to remain and the urbanization of the area less obvious. That was, of course, until five minutes into my walk that I stumbled upon the huge white, glass building that is the Museum of Liverpool, and the glittering Eurovision photo opportunity just across the street. Both of these fairly recent additions to the city (the museum opening not long ago in 2011 and Eurovision happening around the docks just last month) felt extremely out of place in the robust landscape, but goes to show the ways in which Liverpool may be trying to make a new image of itself. Of course, Liverpool’s use of “Beatlemania” to advertise itself as the place that birthed the “Fab Four” (I had never heard of anyone refer to the Beatles as this before this trip, by the way) also shows an effort to rewrite their image, bringing in tourists to Liverpool’s various Beatles attraction such as their official Beatles Story exhibit, Cavern Club, and statues (all dutifully visited by yours truly).

Looking back on my afternoon at Blenheim Palace, I realized I actually spent my time at a product of mixed use development. The 18th century castle was probably built for two main reasons: to house the Duke of Marlborough and his family (as well generations and generations of his family to come), as well as act as a symbol for British nobility. Funnily enough, we now enter it on a day where costumes from various Netflix series are found in its corridors and Lionel Richie is set to play a concert in the main court tonight. The estate just northwest of Central London doesn’t seem urban at first— the green land and various gardens stretch over 12,000 acres and the small neighborhood adjacent to the estate houses a small 3000 residents. However, when examining the current uses of the land, and more importantly, how it brings in profit, it is clear to me that the palace has become completely urbanized. 

First, the most obvious effect of urbanization is the transition from this palace being a home to a tourist attraction and British history exhibit. Aside from being one of the beautiful estates that provides picture-perfect views, it also offers the history of iconic British monarchs and figures such as Queen Anne and Sir Winston Churchill. Furthermore, the palace has been used as filming spots for various films and TV shows, giving tourists the opportunity to dance in the same hall as their favorite Bridgerton characters or visit one of the forests of Harry Potter. With these aspects added to the palace (while the family still lives in a portion of it), tourists have more incentive to make the trip to pay for transportation, buy tickets, and spend the day (of walking, eating, and shopping) at the estate. Another impact of urbanization on the Palace is the decision to use it as a venue— the incorporation of modern day technology and necessity for labor, as well as booking huge names and food trucks to accommodate and entertain consumer, really changes the space. 

First day of my second session in London! After spending a week in Ireland, I certainly felt ready to return to Bloomsbury; however, with our class introduction and preliminary readings, I felt as though I was coming into a different space. Notice I said space, rather than place. As an urban flâneur, I am trying to take out the meaning I’ve given to London (through both my last month here and previous associations) and view it more objectively. Today, I focused on the particulars of how the space around the study center is used. Particularly, in Bloomsbury Square, I was able to analyze the different ways in which the space was designed— leisure for locals, a shortcut for commuters, safe play for kids, and possibly even space for refuge for the homeless, or a landmark to meet at to rally for human rights (especially this month, with its inviting Pride flags). These are just a few of the purposes this space may have, as well as a highlight of the particularly good ones (I’m trying not to think about what ulterior capitalist motives this park and its owners may entertain), but is a good example of how I may come across different spaces in and around London being used.