6 Principles of Documentary Urbanism
How can you use photography to see your city with new eyes?
Sometimes, when people ask me about Walking Almaty, I don’t quite know how to frame it. It doesn’t seem to be a “blog,” because it avoids some elements of the form: most of the material I’ve collected isn’t organized chronologically, and it’s usually not driven by narrative. Nor is it “street photography.” Street photographers, traditionally defined, tend to take candid pictures of strangers or wide-lens landscapes, while the photos I share highlight details, surfaces…the subject matter is markedly different Okay, so then “urban exploration” sounds close! I have spent hundreds of hours exploring my urban home…but, strangely enough, the UrbEx tag usually gets applied only to people documenting the abandoned corners of urbanity, while I like to focus on a city in its entirety. So what are we left with? What is it, exactly, that I do?
In short, Walking Almaty is a project where I systematically explore a city on foot, documenting the visual landscape with photography. Using careful observation, I try to identify the phenomena in Almaty’s architecture, infrastructure and street scene that give the city its “feel,” and then I collect photos of these things to make a kind of annotated catalogue.
Design is always at the forefront: "Who made that? How? Why?" Everything is situated in its historical context:
"When did this phenomenon appear? If it could talk, what would it tell us?" Broad descriptors are broken down into particulars: "What makes this [architectural style] unique? What are the specific elements that define it?"
Using this toolbox of questions, I’ve gone deep into details of Almaty like its brandmauers, balcony panels, and brise soleil, gathering example photos and writing short essays. I hope that once a city-dweller reads my site and is equipped with a certain visual vocabulary, they are able to appreciate what is special about their urban spaces and learn to love the little things, whether they’re trash cans or doorbells.
The best part about my research approach is that it doesn’t just work for Almaty. I’ve taken these techniques on the road, and I’ve found that every city has its particular charms that deserve documentation.
In Trabzon, Turkey I was drawn to mosaic facades.
Design is always at the forefront: "Who made that? How? Why?" Everything is situated in its historical context:
"When did this phenomenon appear? If it could talk, what would it tell us?" Broad descriptors are broken down into particulars: "What makes this [architectural style] unique? What are the specific elements that define it?"
Using this toolbox of questions, I’ve gone deep into details of Almaty like its brandmauers, balcony panels, and brise soleil, gathering example photos and writing short essays. I hope that once a city-dweller reads my site and is equipped with a certain visual vocabulary, they are able to appreciate what is special about their urban spaces and learn to love the little things, whether they’re trash cans or doorbells.
The best part about my research approach is that it doesn’t just work for Almaty. I’ve taken these techniques on the road, and I’ve found that every city has its particular charms that deserve documentation.
In Trabzon, Turkey I was drawn to mosaic facades.
In Danang, Vietnam I grew obsessed with encaustic tiles.
Even when I went back to my hometown, Manhattan Beach, California, I could use these methods to see my city with new eyes. I fell in love with the addresses painted on local curbs, something I had never given much thought to before.
After gathering these examples from all over the world, I felt confident that I had developed a technique that could applied by anybody, anywhere. Let’s call this mode of exploration “Documentary Urbanism.”
You can use Documentary Urbanism to explore your own city too! I’ve made a list of six principles to guide you along.
You can use Documentary Urbanism to explore your own city too! I’ve made a list of six principles to guide you along.
1. Walk everywhere
Walking is healthy, socially responsible, and a great way to clear your head. But most of all, the pace and immediacy of walking give a pedestrian unrivaled observational power when exploring a city. In a car, your speed and seclusion allow you to take in only the most macro of details. On a bike, your bias towards momentum may keep you from stopping and sniffing out something interesting. On foot, you have the most control over how you move through space, and you can use this precision to become intimately familiar with whatever catches your eye.
But the key to Documentary Urbanism isn’t just walking — it’s walking everywhere. When we walk in just our own neighborhoods, we tend to get numb to the things we see every day. So take public transportation to a new neighborhood and try to figure out what makes that place special. The map above shows the hundreds of miles that I’ve walked in Almaty, looking for new landscapes and details to document. If you made the same kind of map for your city, where would the blank spaces be? Go there and walk around!
But the key to Documentary Urbanism isn’t just walking — it’s walking everywhere. When we walk in just our own neighborhoods, we tend to get numb to the things we see every day. So take public transportation to a new neighborhood and try to figure out what makes that place special. The map above shows the hundreds of miles that I’ve walked in Almaty, looking for new landscapes and details to document. If you made the same kind of map for your city, where would the blank spaces be? Go there and walk around!
2. Keep your eyes open
Even if you don’t have the free time to venture out of your work-home circuit, you can still practice Documentary Urbanism just by staying aware of the spaces around you. Practice mindfulness — not just of your physical sensations and your mental wanderings, but of the visual world you inhabit every moment of the day. Can you find a piece of the streetscape that you’ve never noticed before? My internal dialogue often goes like this: "Same old trash can. Same old hedge. Same old…whoa, cool balcony! I’ve never seen that before!"
When you start to develop your awareness in this way, you eventually assume the stance of a birdwatcher, or a bloodhound, with darting eyes and heightened senses. Only this time, your quarry is the built world around you!
Another good practice, by the way, is to keep your field of vision as wide as possible. Look up, look down, look around. You might find some cool paving stones under your feet, or glistening glass insulators on a telephone pole 20 feet up.
When you start to develop your awareness in this way, you eventually assume the stance of a birdwatcher, or a bloodhound, with darting eyes and heightened senses. Only this time, your quarry is the built world around you!
Another good practice, by the way, is to keep your field of vision as wide as possible. Look up, look down, look around. You might find some cool paving stones under your feet, or glistening glass insulators on a telephone pole 20 feet up.
3. Pick up patterns
When I first came to Almaty, I saw a spray-painted ear on the side of a building. A few days later, I saw another one, in different colors, on a retaining wall. Once I saw the third one, I knew something was afoot. Two years on, I have a collection of over a hundred graffiti ears, and I’ve chatted with the artist, learned about his project, and helped share it with the world.
This kind of eye for repetition can be applied to things besides street art. Once I saw a recycled tire shaped into a swan and thought, “Oh, that’s cute.” Then I saw a couple tires stacked into the shape of a teddy bear. By the time I completed my rule-of-three, I realized that this was a full-blown phenomenon. It turns out that tire sculptures are so popular in Almaty, that there’s a whole NGO devoted to installing them in people’s courtyards!
Find one example of a design feature and it could be a fluke of personal creativity. Find two and it might be a coincidence. Find three, and you’ve got yourself a story. Your friends might laugh at your conspiratorial thinking, but once you start looking for patterns in the environment, you can uncover sides of your culture you never thought about.
This kind of eye for repetition can be applied to things besides street art. Once I saw a recycled tire shaped into a swan and thought, “Oh, that’s cute.” Then I saw a couple tires stacked into the shape of a teddy bear. By the time I completed my rule-of-three, I realized that this was a full-blown phenomenon. It turns out that tire sculptures are so popular in Almaty, that there’s a whole NGO devoted to installing them in people’s courtyards!
Find one example of a design feature and it could be a fluke of personal creativity. Find two and it might be a coincidence. Find three, and you’ve got yourself a story. Your friends might laugh at your conspiratorial thinking, but once you start looking for patterns in the environment, you can uncover sides of your culture you never thought about.
4. Develop your vocabulary
One tool for picking out patterns is to learn whether something has got a name. Sometimes, that name might be in another language — this carved wooden window frame is a nalichnik, for example, and once you know that, you can discover that nalichniks are a full-fledged thing, a researched phenomenon, with books and wall calendars and detailed diagrams!
Other times, that name might be a piece of jargon, like pilaster, and soon you’re down a research wormhole, learning about an architectural feature’s provenance and evolution.
In either case, building your vocabulary leads to a more nuanced understanding of your local landscape. Just as a naturalist finds a deeper connection with their environment through their knowledge of botany or recognition of bird calls, the Documentary Urbanist can become a student of the cityscape, able to tell you about the species of manhole covers or fire hydrants in your midst.
Other times, that name might be a piece of jargon, like pilaster, and soon you’re down a research wormhole, learning about an architectural feature’s provenance and evolution.
In either case, building your vocabulary leads to a more nuanced understanding of your local landscape. Just as a naturalist finds a deeper connection with their environment through their knowledge of botany or recognition of bird calls, the Documentary Urbanist can become a student of the cityscape, able to tell you about the species of manhole covers or fire hydrants in your midst.
5. Talk to locals
If you need help identifying an element of the streetscape, or finding out more about it, you can turn to Google Image Search, or Wikipedia, or look through specialized glossaries and encyclopedias. But usually, in Kazakhstan at least, it’s easier just to find your nearest old-timer, point to something, and surprise them with a curious question, “Kak eto nazyvaetsya?”: "What’s that called?"
Sometimes, sure, you’ll get a blank stare, and that’s fine. Not everybody has given thought to what they should properly call that place at the front of the house where they take off their shoes.
Other times, the answer will be very matter-of-fact. That ornamental plasterwork? That’s shuba, which means “fur-coat”, it was popular with all our neighbors in the 80s, there used to be a Uyghur craftsman down the street who decorated all our homes, I think his name was Mohammad, I’ve got his number around here somewhere, let me go take a look…
Sometimes, sure, you’ll get a blank stare, and that’s fine. Not everybody has given thought to what they should properly call that place at the front of the house where they take off their shoes.
Other times, the answer will be very matter-of-fact. That ornamental plasterwork? That’s shuba, which means “fur-coat”, it was popular with all our neighbors in the 80s, there used to be a Uyghur craftsman down the street who decorated all our homes, I think his name was Mohammad, I’ve got his number around here somewhere, let me go take a look…
6. Work with other urbanists
So now you the know ins and outs of Documentary Urbanism. You’ve walked your city with mindful attention, picking out patterns, learning things’ names, and filling your world with context. What now? Find other people like you!
Perhaps you and a fellow urbanist have noticed the same things, and you can pool your resources — now share your collections! Perhaps you have a more activist bent, and those broken access ramps you’ve been documenting need fixing — find a kindred soul and work together!
What’s great about this little community we’re creating is that there’s so much overlap between disciplines. A project like Walking Almaty has attracted walkers, hikers, photographers, architects, urbanists, historians, and more. Who else can we get on board? Where else can we take this?
Documentary Urbanism is a method you can try, share, and develop yourself. Let me know how it goes!
Perhaps you and a fellow urbanist have noticed the same things, and you can pool your resources — now share your collections! Perhaps you have a more activist bent, and those broken access ramps you’ve been documenting need fixing — find a kindred soul and work together!
What’s great about this little community we’re creating is that there’s so much overlap between disciplines. A project like Walking Almaty has attracted walkers, hikers, photographers, architects, urbanists, historians, and more. Who else can we get on board? Where else can we take this?
Documentary Urbanism is a method you can try, share, and develop yourself. Let me know how it goes!
