URBAN LIFE

Flaneur: the French word for a cool, aloof observer of urban life

Do you know someone who fits that description? Are you? If you've eaten in an older Parisian cafe, you could be a flaneur because the mirrors placed at table level all around the room allow you to glance at other patrons. If you have watched any of the Bridgerton series, you will recognize the promenade of the upper class in the city parks who want to be seen by others. You may notice a solitary figure there who is amused by the sight. Today, few people have the time or interest to be part of such a parade, but if you spend time on social media, you could be today's version of a flaneur.

I think of myself as a flaneur when I bring out my sketchbook, and my new fountain pen, and try to catch the expressions or appearance of someone nearby. I'm also a window flaneur. From our eighth-floor windows, I can see a tai chi group that meets every weekday morning. I watch as they slowly move from one pose to another and swing their swords around them. I notice the young couple in morning sweats with their dog hopping along beside them as they jaywalk across the street. The man sitting on the park bench each morning feeding the seagulls reminds me of the old woman in the movie Mary Poppins who sits and feeds the birds. Often I see groups of girls walking briskly down the path, phones out, yoga mats tucked under their arms, ready for their morning workout.

When I walk into a cafe in our neighborhood, I see rows of people with the same posture, hunched over their computers, their backs to the windows or walls. Their common concentration on their screens reminds me of old movies with views of business offices where numerous clerks sit at desks working over typewriters in unison, the motion of their hands on the keys like an orchestra making music together.

I don't think of myself as cool or aloof, but I do enjoy observing urban life and recording what I see. Drawing from above everyone is a challenge that I'm just beginning to try. The perspective is very different than the one I see when I am sitting in a cafe observing other people on the same plane as I am. My drawings are awkward as I try to understand the difference. From my seat at ground level, I capture my delight in the wagonloads of toddlers being transported to the Children's Park across the street from our apartment.