도보로 도시 여행하기

THE ART OF BEING A FLÂNEUR

 

The New York Times - 2023.06.25

 

Your “first care must be to ignore the very dream of haste, walking everywhere very slowly and very much at random,” Henry James advised visitors to Perugia, the capital of the Umbria region in Italy.

 

A self-described flâneur, or idle stroller, James applied this philosophy to other cities, too, wandering aimlessly through the streets of Rome the day he arrived, letting “accident” be his guide. “It served me to perfection,” he wrote in “Italian Hours,” published in 1909, “and introduced me to the best things.”

 

The flâneur is an archetype born, not in Rome, but in 19th-century Paris as it was transforming into a modern city. Baudelaire described this metropolitan character as a “passionate spectator” who “enters into the crowd as though it were an immense reservoir of electrical energy.” The philosopher and essayist Walter Benjamin called the flâneur a pedestrian with “a detective’s nose.” Like a number of artists and writers, the painter Edouard Manet was himself a flâneur — a “fashionable boulevardier” as a 1982 exhibition catalog for “Manet and Modern Paris” at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., put it — who used the city’s streets, gardens and cafes as his muses.

 

 

 

 

Imagine having time on your hands in Paris, feasting on its sensuous pleasures, strolling alone and unafraid. Little wonder the flâneur has captured imaginations, including mine, across cities and centuries.

 

I like to vacation in walkable cities and, in the spirit of Henry James, my first hours in them are spent wandering. Where and when I turn is a game of chance. I might follow the sound of church bells, or drift toward a leafy square, or catch the scent of hot bread in the air and wind up at a bakery.

 

To walk a city led by your senses rather than a destination is to awaken to the city and, possibly, to yourself. It’s an opportunity to expand your capacity for wonder, to discover and delight in things you might have missed had you been aiming to get somewhere. “To correctly play the flâneur, as Franz Hessel explained in “Walking in Berlin: A Flaneur in the Capital,” “you can’t have anything too particular in mind.”

 

One October afternoon I was trying to find a mausoleum in the Porte Sante cemetery in Florence, said to contain the remains of C. Collodi (born Carlo Lorenzini), the author of “The Adventures of Pinocchio.” Pinpointing the mausoleum became a chore and — to take a page from Pinocchio — truthfully, the mausoleum wasn’t as intriguing as my walk afterward. No longer hunting for a destination, I could finally _see_.

 

I wandered the cemetery, weaving among angels and busts of men, past bird’s eye views of the Duomo from the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte, down the steep hill to the Ponte Santa Trinita. Crossing the bridge, I paused to look up at the crack around the neck of Primavera, the statue representing spring, a result of her losing her head when retreating Germans blew up the bridge toward the end of World War II (the head was found, on a sandbank in the Arno River, in 1961).

 

I followed the river toward the Uffizi Gallery where I stopped, enchanted by the scene below. A handful of people, some barefoot, others in striped socks, were sunning themselves, eating and drinking red wine at cafe tables, and reading newspapers in Adirondack chairs on a grassy bank of the Arno. What looked like a Slim Aarons photograph was the Società Canottieri Firenze, the Florence rowing club, a respite tucked under the Uffizi where, at any moment, a member might slip into a boat and glide away.

 

 

 

 

This sort of aimless strolling is conducive to savoring, to finding joy in the moment, a practice that some social scientists have found can be cultivated and may help lead to a more fulfilling life. In “Savoring: A New Model of Positive Experience,” the scholars Fred B. Bryant and Joseph Veroff describe savoring not as mere pleasure, but as an active process that requires presence and mindfulness. It’s “a search for the delectable, delicious, almost gustatory delights of the moment,” as they put it.

 

By walking a city in this engaged yet relaxed fashion, we may also become more open to the unexpected, to the little surprises that sometimes turn out to be the best part of a day, or an entire vacation.

 

Walking after dinner in New York one early September evening, I cut through Lincoln Center. The night was sultry and as I neared the Metropolitan Opera House, I heard music. A few steps later, I found myself at the edge of a hushed crowd at an outdoor screening of Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly.” Only a moment ago I was on the sidewalk. Suddenly, I was at the opera. I don’t remember what I ate for dinner that night, but I still recall the happy feeling of unexpectedly stepping into that tableaux. I thought of what the sociologist Robert K. Merton and Elinor Barber, a researcher at Columbia University, wrote in “The Travels and Adventures of Serendipity: A Study in Sociological Semantics and the Sociology of Science,” their investigation into the word’s history: “When out of uncertainty and the absence of control there emerge good things, they are doubly welcome — they suggest that the gods are smiling.”

 

In addition to nurturing the ability to savor, strolling can be a way to begin to understand the cities we visit. In Tokyo, the sidewalks were my introduction to the city’s architecture, food and folklore, sparking what would become an abiding affection for Japan. Wandering neighborhoods amid contemporary and modernist buildings, temples, shrines, markets, Metro stations and department store food halls with bento boxes and Bel Amer chocolates almost too exquisite to eat, helped to slowly reveal the city.

 

 

 

 

The early flâneurs were typically students of modernity, interested in their own time and place. Yet strolling is an undeniably engaging way to plumb a city’s past. Clues are everywhere. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of going slowly enough to notice signs and historical markers. Other times, an object or architectural detail that piques your interest — a gate, a gargoyle — provides a portal to another time. Stories of vanished ages can be triggered by a single stone, then explored back home through books and websites. When I was traveling in Istanbul everything in the streets — the carts selling simit, sesame-seed-covered bread rings; the tables of books at the Sahaflar Carsisi, the used-book bazaar; the crumbling, vertiginous steps between the Bosporus and the cafes of Cihangir; the wooden waterside homes called yalis; the minarets and calls to prayer — all told stories of a teeming city as it is and was.

 

Being in a big city among so many strangers can be at turns exhilarating and disturbing. In 19th-century Paris, the anonymity of the crowd and questions of identity fueled dark imaginings and gave rise to stories like Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Man of the Crowd” and “The Mystery of Marie Roget,” as Walter Benjamin writes in “The Flâneur,” a chapter in “Charles Baudelaire: A Lyric Poet in the Era of High Capitalism.”

 

But being incognito isn’t just a boon for criminals. Rather, it’s an underrated benefit of flânerie, especially in an age of social media. Alone in a crowd, you can take a break from who friends and family expect you to be. You can be yourself, or “off stage,” to borrow the sociologist Erving Goffman’s term. You have room to go at your own pace, to let your eye and mind wander, to stumble upon new ideas, even self realizations.

 

Of course, as much as one may want to go strolling, there are all sorts of barriers to doing so, including things like time, safety, customs and personal beliefs. Virginia Woolf writes in her essay, “Street Haunting: A London Adventure,” published in the Yale Review in 1927, that “the greatest pleasure of town life in winter” is “rambling the streets of London.” But she laments that “one must, one always must, do something or other; it is not allowed one simply to enjoy oneself.” And so one winter evening she decides she must go and buy a pencil — which she readily admits is a pretext. Her real reason for going out? To wander.

 

Through the ages, would-be saunterers have devised ways not only to escape to the streets, but to be more open to chance. In Alexandre Dumas’s “The Mohicans of Paris,” a character decides which way to go by tossing a fragment of paper into the wind and following it toward whatever adventure awaits. Nowadays, books and games like “Anywhere Travel Guide: 75 Cards for Discovering the Unexpected, Wherever Your Journey Leads,” offer travel prompts such as “Imagine a song you haven’t heard in a long time. Move your body with the music. Turn right when the song ends.”

 

When Sabrina Impacciatore, the Italian actress who played Valentina in the second season of “The White Lotus,” was asked during an interview on HBO whether she plans everything or goes with the flow on vacation, she said her idea of vacation is to follow smells and sounds. “I love to arrive in a place,” she said, “and the first smell I like, I follow the smell.”

 

In Krakow, Poland, one spring, I followed the sun. I had a bad cold but it was the sort of unseasonably warm afternoon that draws everyone, even an ailing tourist, to the banks of the Vistula River. A monk and a nun sat on a low wall, their legs dangling over the side. Three women gathered under a weeping willow. Dogs sniffed each other on the grass. I stopped to rest. After all, pauses are as much a part of flânerie as putting one foot in front of the other.

 

Sitting on the wall, I watched five old men, one shirtless, playing cards at a picnic table. A couple of bicycles and a set of crutches leaned against a tree. It was an unremarkable scene and yet, as I kept looking, it took on a certain significance. Most of us travel with must-see destinations in mind. But every now and then, on a stroll to nowhere, we’re reminded that life doesn’t get much better than communing with a friend or two by a river in the late afternoon.

 

These days, most flâneurs are not bons vivants in top hats. Gone is the detached observer looking on as Paris transforms before her eyes. We are of our time. All kinds of people today, including those for whom walking isn’t easy or possible, may consider themselves flâneurs and flâneuses. What remains of the original privileged character is a certain romance, an air of freedom and a desire to pursue a slower, looser way of experiencing a city — if only for an afternoon. Eventually, you return to your hotel. You’ve strolled unfamiliar streets and tried new things. If you’re lucky, you’ve seen something beautiful or tasted something superb. Maybe you’re feeling grateful, or you’ve rekindled some joie de vivre. You did not go out with a destination. But perhaps you arrived somewhere after all.

 

 

 

The New York Times - 2023.06.25

 

 

 

한량(FLÂNEUR)이 되는 기술

 

헨리 제임스는 이탈리아 움브리아 지방의 수도 페루자를 방문한 여행객들에게 "가장 먼저 해야 할 일은 서두르겠다는 꿈을 무시하고 모든 곳을 아주 천천히, 아주 무작위로 걷는 것"이라고 조언했습니다.



자칭 '유유자적'이라고 불리는 제임스는 이 철학을 다른 도시에도 적용하여 도착한 날 로마의 거리를 정처 없이 돌아다니며 '우연'을 자신의 길잡이로 삼았습니다. "그는 1909년에 출간된 "이탈리안 아워스(Italian Hours)"에서 "이 여행은 저에게 완벽하게 도움이 되었으며, 최고의 것들을 소개해 주었습니다."라고 썼습니다.



플라뇌르는 로마가 아니라 근대 도시로 변모하던 19세기 파리에서 탄생한 원형입니다. 보들레르는 이 대도시의 인물을 "마치 거대한 전기 에너지의 저장소처럼 군중 속으로 들어가는" "열정적인 관중"이라고 묘사했습니다. 철학자이자 수필가인 발터 벤야민은 플라뇌르를 "탐정의 코"를 가진 보행자라고 불렀습니다. 많은 예술가 및 작가와 마찬가지로 화가 에두아르 마네도 1982년 워싱턴 DC 국립미술관에서 열린 "마네와 현대 파리" 전시 도록에 따르면, 도시의 거리, 정원, 카페를 뮤즈로 삼았던 "유행에 민감한 보행자"인 플로뇌르였습니다.



파리의 감각적인 즐거움을 만끽하며 혼자서 두려움 없이 거닐며 여유로운 시간을 보내는 모습을 상상해 보세요. 이 사진작가가 여러 도시와 세기를 넘나들며 저를 포함한 많은 사람들의 상상력을 사로잡은 것은 당연한 일이죠.



저는 걷기 좋은 도시에서 휴가를 보내는 것을 좋아하고, 헨리 제임스의 말처럼 도시에서의 첫 시간을 방황하는 데 보냅니다. 어디로 어디로 향할지는 우연의 연속입니다. 교회 종소리를 따라가다가 나뭇잎이 우거진 광장으로 향하기도 하고, 공기 중에 퍼지는 따끈한 빵 냄새를 맡고 빵집에 들르기도 합니다.



목적지가 아닌 감각에 이끌려 도시를 걷는다는 것은 도시와 어쩌면 나 자신에 대해 깨어나는 것입니다. 경이로움에 대한 용량을 확장하고, 어딘가에 도착하는 것을 목표로 삼았다면 놓쳤을 것들을 발견하고 기뻐할 수 있는 기회입니다. 프란츠 헤셀은 "베를린에서 걷기"에서 플라뇌르를 제대로 즐기기 위해 이렇게 설명했습니다: 수도의 플라뇌르"에서 설명한 것처럼 "너무 특별한 것을 염두에 두어서는 안 됩니다."



10월의 어느 날 오후, 저는 피렌체의 포르테 산테 공동묘지에서 "피노키오의 모험"의 저자 C. 콜로디(본명 카를로 로렌지니)의 유해가 묻혀 있다고 알려진 묘소를 찾으려고 했어요. 피노키오의 한 페이지를 빌리자면, 묘소를 정확히 찾아내는 것은 번거로운 일이었고 솔직히 묘소는 그 후의 산책만큼 흥미롭지 않았어요. 더 이상 목적지를 찾지 않고 마침내 _볼_ 수 있게 되었습니다.



저는 산 미니아토 알 몬테 대성당에서 두오모의 조감도를 지나 가파른 언덕을 내려가 산타 트리니타 다리까지 천사와 사람 흉상 사이를 거닐며 묘지를 돌아다녔어요. 다리를 건너면서 봄을 상징하는 조각상인 프리마베라의 목 주위에 갈라진 틈을 바라보았는데, 2차 세계대전이 끝날 무렵 후퇴하는 독일군이 다리를 폭파하면서 머리를 잃었다고 합니다(1961년 아르노 강의 모래톱에서 머리가 발견되었죠).



저는 강을 따라 우피치 갤러리를 향해 가다가 아래 장면에 매료되어 발걸음을 멈췄습니다. 맨발에 줄무늬 양말을 신은 몇몇 사람들이 일광욕을 즐기고, 카페 테이블에서 레드 와인을 마시며, 아르노 강변의 잔디밭에 놓인 아디론댁 의자에 앉아 신문을 읽고 있었죠. 슬림 아론스의 사진처럼 보이는 곳은 피렌체 조정 클럽인 소시에타 카노티에리 피렌체로, 우피치 미술관 아래에 자리한 휴식처로 언제라도 회원들이 배에 미끄러져 미끄러져 나갈 수 있는 곳이었죠.



일부 사회 과학자들은 이러한 목적 없는 산책이 음미와 순간순간의 기쁨을 찾는 데 도움이 되며, 이러한 습관을 기르면 더 만족스러운 삶을 살 수 있다고 말합니다. "음미하기: 긍정적 경험의 새로운 모델"에서 학자 프레드 브라이언트와 조셉 베로프는 음미를 단순한 즐거움이 아니라 존재감과 마음챙김이 필요한 능동적인 과정으로 설명합니다. 이들의 표현을 빌리자면 "맛있고 맛있는, 거의 미각에 가까운 순간의 즐거움을 찾는 것"이라고 할 수 있습니다.



이렇게 몰입하면서도 여유로운 방식으로 도시를 걷다 보면 예상치 못한 일, 때로는 하루 또는 휴가 전체에서 최고의 순간이 될 수 있는 작은 놀라움에 더 개방적이 될 수 있습니다.



9월 초 어느 날 저녁, 뉴욕에서 저녁 식사를 마치고 링컨 센터를 가로질러 걷고 있었습니다. 밤은 무더웠고 메트로폴리탄 오페라 하우스에 가까워졌을 때 음악 소리가 들렸습니다. 몇 걸음 후, 저는 푸치니의 "나비부인"을 야외에서 상영하는 조용한 관중석 가장자리에 서 있는 제 모습을 발견했습니다. 조금 전까지만 해도 저는 인도에 있었어요. 갑자기 저는 오페라 공연장에 있었습니다. 그날 저녁에 무엇을 먹었는지는 기억나지 않지만, 예기치 않게 그 무대에 들어섰을 때의 행복한 느낌은 아직도 생생합니다. 사회학자 로버트 머튼(Robert K. Merton)과 컬럼비아 대학교의 엘리너 바버(Elinor Barber) 연구원이 쓴 '세렌디피티의 여행과 모험'이 생각났어요: 사회학적 의미론과 과학의 사회학에 관한 연구"에서 이 단어의 역사에 대해 조사한 내용을 떠올렸습니다: "불확실성과 통제할 수 없는 상황에서 좋은 일이 생기면 두 배로 반가운 일이며, 신이 미소 짓고 있음을 암시합니다."



산책은 음미하는 능력을 키우는 것 외에도 우리가 방문하는 도시를 이해하기 시작하는 방법이 될 수 있습니다. 도쿄에서는 보도가 도시의 건축, 음식, 민속을 소개하는 통로였고 일본에 대한 지속적인 애정을 불러일으켰습니다. 현대적이고 모던한 건물, 사찰, 신사, 시장, 지하철역, 도시락과 먹기 아까울 정도로 맛있는 벨 아메르 초콜릿이 있는 백화점 식품관 사이를 돌아다니며 도쿄를 천천히 알아가는 데 도움이 되었습니다.



초기 여행자들은 대개 근대성에 관심이 많은 학생들이었고, 자신만의 시간과 장소에 관심이 많았습니다. 하지만 산책은 도시의 과거를 들여다볼 수 있는 매력적인 방법임에는 틀림없습니다. 단서는 어디에나 있습니다. 때로는 표지판이나 역사적 표식을 발견할 수 있을 만큼 천천히 걷는 것만으로도 충분합니다. 성문, 석상 등 흥미를 유발하는 사물이나 건축적 디테일이 다른 시대로 가는 포털을 제공하기도 합니다. 사라진 시대에 대한 이야기는 돌멩이 하나에서 시작되어 책과 웹사이트를 통해 다시 탐구될 수 있습니다. 이스탄불을 여행할 때 시미트, 참깨로 덮은 빵 반지를 파는 수레, 중고 도서 시장인 사하플라 차르시시의 책 테이블, 보스포러스 해협과 시항기르 카페 사이의 무너져 내리는 아슬아슬한 계단, 얄리라고 불리는 물가의 목조 주택, 미나레트와 기도의 부름 등 거리의 모든 것이 과거와 현재에 대한 이야기를 들려줬습니다.



대도시에서 수많은 낯선 사람들 사이에서 지내는 것은 짜릿하기도 하고 불안하기도 합니다. 19세기 파리에서는 군중의 익명성과 정체성에 대한 의문이 어두운 상상을 불러일으키며 에드거 앨런 포의 "군중의 남자"와 "마리 로제의 미스터리"와 같은 이야기를 탄생시켰고, 발터 벤야민이 "샤를 보들레르"의 한 장인 "플라뇌르"에 쓴 것처럼 군중의 익명성은 어두운 상상을 불러일으키기도 했죠: 고도 자본주의 시대의 서정 시인"의 한 장에 나오는 말입니다.



하지만 시크릿이 범죄자에게만 유리한 것은 아닙니다. 오히려 시크릿은 특히 소셜 미디어 시대에 과소평가되고 있는 시크릿의 장점이기도 합니다. 군중 속에서 혼자 있으면 친구와 가족이 기대하는 모습에서 벗어나 휴식을 취할 수 있습니다. 사회학자 어빙 고프먼의 용어를 빌리자면 '무대 밖의 나'가 될 수 있습니다. 자신의 속도에 맞춰 눈과 마음이 방황하고, 새로운 아이디어를 발견하고, 심지어 자아를 실현할 수 있는 여지가 있습니다.



물론 산책을 하고 싶은 마음만큼이나 시간, 안전, 관습, 개인적 신념 등 여러 가지 장벽이 존재합니다. 버지니아 울프는 에세이 '거리 유령: 1927년 예일 리뷰에 실린 에세이 "거리 유령: 런던의 모험"에서 "겨울철 도시 생활의 가장 큰 즐거움"은 "런던의 거리를 돌아다니는 것"이라고 썼습니다. 그러나 그녀는 "사람은 항상 무언가를 해야만 하고, 항상 무언가를 해야만 하며, 단순히 자신을 즐기는 것은 허용되지 않는다"고 한탄합니다. 그래서 어느 겨울 저녁, 그녀는 연필을 사러 나가야겠다고 결심하는데, 이는 구실일 뿐이라는 것을 쉽게 인정합니다. 그녀가 외출한 진짜 이유는 무엇일까요? 방황하기 위해서입니다.



오랜 세월에 걸쳐 선망의 대상이 되려는 사람들은 거리로 탈출하는 것뿐만 아니라 우연에 더 개방적인 방법을 고안해냈습니다. 알렉상드르 뒤마의 "파리의 모히칸"에서 주인공은 종이 조각을 바람에 던지고 그 종이 조각을 따라 모험이 기다리고 있는 곳으로 향하는 것으로 갈 길을 결정합니다. 요즘에는 '애니웨어 트래블 가이드'와 같은 책과 게임도 있습니다: 여정이 어디로 향하든 예상치 못한 것을 발견할 수 있는 75가지 카드"와 같은 책과 게임에서는 "오랫동안 들어보지 못한 노래를 상상해 보세요"와 같은 여행 프롬프트를 제공합니다. 음악에 맞춰 몸을 움직여 보세요. 노래가 끝나면 우회전하세요."



'하얀 연꽃'의 두 번째 시즌에서 발렌티나 역을 맡은 이탈리아 여배우 사브리나 임파치아토레는 HBO 인터뷰에서 휴가 때 모든 것을 계획하는 편인지 아니면 흐름을 따라가는 편인지에 대한 질문을 받자 자신의 휴가 개념은 냄새와 소리를 따라가는 것이라고 말했습니다. "저는 어떤 장소에 도착하는 것을 좋아합니다."라고 그녀는 말하며 "제가 좋아하는 첫 번째 냄새가 나면 그 냄새를 따라갑니다."라고 말했습니다.



어느 봄날 폴란드 크라쿠프에서 저는 태양을 따라갔어요. 감기에 걸렸지만 계절에 맞지 않게 따뜻한 오후였기 때문에 아픈 여행객도 비스툴라 강변으로 발걸음을 옮겼습니다. 스님과 수녀 한 명이 낮은 벽에 앉아 다리를 옆으로 늘어뜨린 채 앉아 있었습니다. 수양버들 아래에는 세 명의 여인이 모여 있었다. 개들이 풀밭에서 서로의 냄새를 맡았다. 나는 쉬기 위해 멈췄다. 결국, 멈추는 것은 한 발을 다른 발 앞에 놓는 것만큼이나 플라네리에의 일부입니다.



벽에 앉아 웃통을 벗은 다섯 명의 노인이 피크닉 테이블에서 카드놀이를 하는 모습을 지켜보았습니다. 자전거 두 대와 목발 한 세트가 나무에 기대어 있었습니다. 별것 아닌 장면이었지만 계속 바라보니 어떤 의미가 담겨 있었습니다. 우리 대부분은 꼭 가봐야 할 여행지를 염두에 두고 여행을 떠납니다. 하지만 때때로 아무데도 가지 않고 산책을 하다 보면 늦은 오후 강가에서 친구 한두 명과 대화를 나누는 것보다 더 좋은 인생은 없다는 것을 깨닫게 됩니다.



요즘 대부분의 플로너는 모자를 쓴 봉비방이 아닙니다. 파리가 눈앞에서 변화하는 모습을 바라보는 냉정한 관찰자는 이제 사라졌습니다. 우리는 우리 시대의 사람입니다. 걷는 것이 쉽지 않거나 불가능한 사람들을 포함하여 오늘날 모든 종류의 사람들이 스스로를 플라뇌르와 플라뇌르라고 생각할 수 있습니다. 원래의 특권층에게 남은 것은 낭만과 자유로움, 그리고 오후 한나절만이라도 느리고 느슨한 방식으로 도시를 경험하고 싶은 욕망입니다. 결국 호텔로 돌아옵니다. 낯선 거리를 거닐고 새로운 것을 시도해 보셨을 겁니다. 운이 좋았다면 아름다운 광경을 보거나 맛있는 음식을 맛보았을 수도 있습니다. 감사한 마음이 들었거나 삶의 활력을 되찾았을 수도 있습니다. 목적지가 정해져 있지 않았을 수도 있습니다. 하지만 결국 어딘가에 도착했을 수도 있습니다.

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/19/travel/walking-travel-cities.html

The Art of Being a Flâneur