Abstract
Rhythmanalysis and the way it is conducted is a theoretical concept and also a relatively novel framework using plural methodologies, often less grounded methods, on the border between various social sciences and philosophy. This paper elaborates on the rhythmanalytical approach developing a specific methodological framework that describes how to combine different, mostly empiric methods to achieve methodologically enriched results. The strength of such research is in the well thought-through combination and synergy of the methods used. It presents an empirical, methodological grasp on rhythmanalysis while it respects its phenomenological foundations and challenging character, as this field can always benefit from the updating of the methodological approaches.
The paper describes the application of such a framework in the context of the recent urban development of the Smíchov district in Prague. The focal point of the study, the Smíchov train terminal, was explored for rhythm-related phenomena at the very beginning of a significant transformation of the railway station. Documentary analysis was accompanied by semi-structured interviews, structured observation as well as time-lapse photography. This paper explains the specifics of each method, explores how they complement each other and evaluates it by presenting its advantages, disadvantages and recommendations for future use. Furthermore, it coins the concept of rhythmic anchors and renders outlooks and tenets applicable to future rhythmanalytical explorations including ethical considerations related to rhythmanalytical inquiries.
Keywords
Introduction
When Henri Lefebvre claimed that rhythm emerges everywhere “[…] where there is interaction between a place, a time and an expenditure of energy,” (2004: 15) he laid the groundwork for his novel perspective on the perception of our lived environment, which became known as rhythmanalysis. This perspective continues to attract the attention of scholars from various fields. Despite the fact that his thoughts revolved around this topic for a long time, his work on rhythmanalysis was only published posthumously in 1992. It is evident that the actual phenomenon of rhythm is ageless, omnipresent and had been studied before Lefebvre's publication. Still, it usually escapes a steady, unequivocal definition as its matter is fluid and ever-changing. We may agree on Lefebvre's specification that: “There is no rhythm without repetition in time and space, without reprises, without returns, in short without measure. But there is no identical absolute repetition, indefinitely […] there is always something new and unforeseen that introduces itself into the repetitive: difference”. (2004: 6) These points illuminate both the elusive and innovative character of rhythms and even the interpretation and practice of rhythmanalysis in various cases, but as we claim it doesn’t lessen the importance of such a rhythmical perspective. Yi Chen even suggests a special position of rhythms as sort of a “meta-sense” that synthesizes bodily and extra-bodily perceptions (2017: 2).
Trying to analyse and discern rhythms is a conceptual approach, but also an adaptable methodology, and simultaneously a theory and a method. For instance, Mulíček et al. (2015: 4) follows Lefebvre in the interpretation that he “perceives rhythm not as the object of study but instead as an analytical tool.” From a traditional Lefebvrian point of view, one might imagine a rhythmanalyst that “sensitises himself to even the most subtle undulations of rhythms in time and space; he listens to them (often through the body in accordance with Lefebvre's argument for its centrality in the practice) and eventually uncovers various patterns in his surrounding environments, in society.” (Smrčina, 2020: 144) Such a classic rhythmanalytical approach that only emphasizes subjective perception and centrality of immediate bodily or sensory perceptions would, however, ignore theoretical development that eventually followed Lefebvre's work, not to mention the authors that preceded Lefebvre in this matter and allegedly inspired him (Pinheiro Don Santos, Gaston Bachelard, Guy Debord, Georges Perec, to name a few). Several authors have already offered historical overviews, such as Brighenti and Kärrholm (2018: 3–6), Lyon (2018: 19–23) or Elden (2006) regarding concise interpretation of Lefebvre's legacy.
We are aware that this paper navigates the verge of several fields, as rhythm itself is a multi-faceted phenomenon. A rhythmanalytical scholar that focuses strictly on Lefebvrian approach may find it lacking at some points; an urbanist might be more interested in the research whose results were presented only partially and used to achieve different aims; social sciences researcher would possibly consider it slightly unorthodox. We acknowledge this at the beginning, as our goal is to provide a transdisciplinary contribution to study of rhythms and possibilities of rhythmanalytical practice. Multiple perspectives are beneficial for grasping rhythms and engaging with this elusive phenomenon: Whether to observe and capture the rhythms as such, or to use them as the lens to see deeper phenomena – that is, to use rhythms as a tool.
Rhythmanalysis is not limited to the human or urban environment, as many examples show, but this paper deals primarily with the city even though other non-human rhythms relate to it as well. We assume that the strength of rhythmanalysis lies in its ability to grasp both visible and less visible rhythms; approach various temporalities and spatialities (so-called time-spaces or space-times); analyse rhythmic assemblages and relations and follow them to unravel hidden hegemonies or mechanisms present in the environment. It also contributes to the development of new methods or their novel usage. In the way the rhythms blur the division between space and time (or dominance of one over another), rhythms seem to be natural means to understand the temporal and spatial conditions around us, analyze them and connect us to deeper structures that may subsequently relate to intentional productions of space – and eventually, optimal urban space design.
This perspective reminds us, for example, of the study by Henckel and Thomaier (2013: 99) that focuses on urban rhythms, but also on concepts of “temporal efficiency and temporal justice of cities.” (2013: 99) Last but not least, there is the question of how we decide and how we can perceive rhythms with regard to our sensory apparatus, the established central position of one's body which Lefebvre emphasizes and on which he actually builds his theory. For example, Revill decides to focus on listening to the rhythm of the railway station and emphasizes the active qualities of perception concerning rhythmanalysis. He speaks of “listening as an active practice […] contrasted with the more passive physiological sense of hearing” and conceives listening as a ‘hermeneutical disposition’.” (2013: 58)
Since we apply and develop the rhythmanalytical framework on a particular case study, we observe the nature of rhythms and their change during the process of an urban transformation. We do not advise on how to produce the space but rather, how to understand it. Similarly, Degen (2010: 28) points out that place distinctiveness is hard to engineer when remembering the words of Molotch et al.: “[…] urban tradition arises through interactive layering and active enrollments over time, something that is difficult to produce all at once.” (Molotch et al., 2000: 818) Aligned with the approach of Nash (2022), who inspired us by combining some empirical methods in her research (see Chapter 2), we decided to take this further: Instead of employing just a single method, we evaluate several strategically combined rhythm-based research methods and use them as examples of recontextualizing an already existing framework.
The following chapter of the paper provides an overview of the development of rhythmanalytical thinking and introduces relevant concepts. Its final part connects this theoretical grounding with the goals of this article. The subsequent chapter focuses on the case study and provides a context to the analyzed urban environment (Smíchovské nádraží in Prague) and related urban studies. Then the paper shifts to the chapter on methodology. Results of the research follow and they are further contextualized and interpreted in the discussion chapter. The paper concludes with main findings and recommendations for further research.
Evolution of rhythmanalysis and our contribution to it
Lefebvre's original articulation of rhythmanalysis (Lefebvre, 1992; Lefebvre and Régulier, 1985) was not intended as a concrete research method but rather as a conceptual and philosophical orientation toward time, space and the body. It offered a vocabulary and both conceptual and epistemological lens through which rhythms – social, spatial, bodily – could be perceived, critiqued and interpreted. While his work lacked methodological formalization, it laid the foundation for later scholars to develop rhythmanalysis into an increasingly diverse methodological framework.
Simpson (2012: 424) reflected on the renewed interest in rhythmanalysis used as an analytic lens for understanding the organization of social life. In his approach, it was exploring how “places are always in a process of becoming, seething with emergent properties, but usually stabilized by regular patterns of flow that possess particular rhythmic qualities whether steady, intermittent, volatile or surging.” (Edensor, 2010: 3) He made the point, relevant at that time, that rhythmanalysis remained vague and sometimes “dark” from the methodological perspective even though it had been employed by many authors which often restrained from the precise description of how they actually approached rhythmanalysis or recorded rhythms.
In the past years, rhythmanalysis has been subject to various adaptations that came from different areas and sometimes followed different aims that conformed to the expertise and interests of the authors. There has been the notion of the so-called return of rhythms (elaborated by Henriques et al., 2014) meant not only to refer to the renewed interest in rhythms and their dynamic, virtual and less tangible aspects, but also to the genealogy of rhythm where it always returns in a new iteration: “‘Return suggests repetition of old ideas but with difference.’” (Henriques et al., 2014: 4)
As we see it, its last iteration refers to the renewed interest in rhythmanalysis in some of the below mentioned works which we may track across the past two decades (e.g., Brighenti and Kärrholm, 2018; Chen, 2017; Cook, 2014; Edensor, 2010; Elden, 2006; Gibert-Flutre, 2022; Henriques et al., 2014; Kärrholm, 2009; Lyon, 2018, 2022; Nash, 2018a; Simpson, 2012). These revised the project, trying to develop its “shapeable” potential or correct the shortcomings they identified within it. There appeared transdisciplinary case studies that creatively used rhythmanalysis, often in areas where traditional methods dominated. Implementation of rhythmanalysis in these studies was less conventional. Apart from numerous studies, several in-depth publications on rhythmanalysis were published in the past decade and especially in the past few years:
Edensor edited probably the first and seminal compendium (2010) of such studies in various disciplines and on often very specific topics. These and his critical introduction provided solid ground and inspiration for further research.
Chen (2017) published a theoretically oriented book based in cultural studies providing rhythmanalysis with philosophical anchoring as she coined it as a “form of phenomenology” (2017: 29). Similarly, as above-mentioned Mulíček et al. (2015: 4), Chen rethinks the rhythmanalytical project and considers it a heuristic method highlighting its “suggestive, experimental and procedural (trial and error) modes of operation that the method instigates” (Chen 2017: 7). Also, original Lefebvrian concepts such as cyclical and linear rhythms, rhythmic constellations (eurhythmia, arrhythmia and such) were constructively criticized and further elaborated by Brighenti and Kärrholm (2018) and continuously by Kärrholm even earlier (2009, 2016).
Lyon provided a concise introduction to the theory of rhythmanalysis (2018: 79). More recently, Lyon edited the collection (2022), which included up-to-date contextualization of rhythmanalytical research (also considering implications of the Covid-19 pandemic) and presented studies that variously use the mode of rhythmanalytical thinking. Importantly, as she noted that rhythmanalysis exceeded the directions Lefebvre and Régulier originally set out (2022: 8), she identified five strands, five possibilities of rhythmanalysis (2022: 7).
Nash extended her studies on rhythmanalysis, work, organizational and geographical (work)space (2018a, 2018b) into a book (2022). While she acknowledged the traditional Lefebvrian perspective, she complemented it with empirical research based on walking, observation, interviews, and such. In this regard, we find a parallel in her work to our own research, as she puts her particular research into a wider (methodological) framework. Nash asserts that “what differentiates rhythmanalysis from more straightforward observation of the temporality of urban life is the stress on the body as the medium of analysis” (2018b: 7). This phenomenological orientation and certain ambiguity are often anchored in the very nature of the analysis. There is usually the “interplay between subjective experience and objective materiality” or “tension between engagement and detachment” (2018b: 7), between being inside and outside. These notions refer directly to the original Lefebvrian conception of the rhythmanalysis, but at the same time leave a vast space for productive interpretations, methodological elaborations, and discussion.
Speaking of the current state of knowledge of rhythmanalysis, we may consider it as an established philosophical approach, recently using plural methodologies, which still offers a possibility to explore its initial, less explicit and somehow veiled potential. Developing it may lead not only to unconventional, e.g., posthumanist approaches, but also to revisiting established empirical methods, which we experiment with. Academic discussion on rhythmanalysis is no longer in its beginning, nor can it be considered already “traditional”. To establish a certain rhythmanalytical approach, the methodology doesn’t suggest that it can be used anywhere and universally: it only provides a perspective, it suggests and invites not to merely study rhythms themselves, but – as Lefebvre suggested – to use them as a tool (or as a lens, as we cited above in Simpson, 2012). At the same time, recent scholarly works (e.g., Lyon, 2022) show that rhythmanalysis has already become a flexible applied framework used across disciplines, even as its theoretical core remains open-ended.
Henriques et al. (2014) contribute to this renewed attention with the above-mentioned notion of the return of rhythms describing a broader theoretical shift across disciplines – from representational and structuralist paradigms toward more processual, embodied, and affective modes of analysis. Rhythm, in their view, regains a central role in understanding cultural and social phenomena through movement, temporality, and the body. While rhythmanalysis has embraced these trajectories, recent research often downplays representation. Our study aligns with the return of rhythms in its empirical and methodological richness, yet seeks to reassert the value of representation as a communicative and comparative dimension that remains underdeveloped within rhythmanalytical practice.
We proceed with a rhythmanalytical investigation that follows up on the evolution described and its current positioning. It is practiced in an empirical context where it employs traditional social sciences methods. We acknowledge that the rhythms have once again returned and rhythmanalysis has penetrated a variety of disciplines and themes. Furthermore, it now entails methodological discussion and doesn’t refrain from continual shifting between theoretical inquiries and empirical perspectives and so far, this has been anchored philosophically by different authors in case studies, elaborated in how-to examples, or reflected in the circumstances of its hands-on application. This was done from both the perspective of a field researcher, as well as a more pensive point of view of a detached scholar.
There is always a certain partiality of our research, understanding and gaze. While some methods and rather artistic approaches might be considered to suit better the aim to capture the fleeting phenomena, the established methods of social sciences can also complement the experimental ones. They lead to the same rhythmanalytical goal, even though approaching from a different angle. Thus, we suppose, there is no single, definite methodology which would exclude any other approach. To use a variety of different methods and the art of putting them together to work towards a particular aim in a particular context could prove to be essential.
The field of rhythmanalysis could benefit from more attention to methodology in an empirical perspective. We feel that there hasn’t been much extensive, clear, and informative literature on rhythmanalysis which would complement it with empirical perspective of social sciences, though there has been a growing body of literature that operationalizes rhythmanalysis in empirical contexts, especially in the last decades. At the time, Simpson (2012) mentioned several complementary methods that had been employed, for example, a diary-photo, diary-interview, sound-diaries, visual/textual experimental ethnography or video, and he contributed with the usage of time-lapse photography. Moreover, there were various studies included in the compendium by Edensor (2010), using methods such as interviews, mobile ethnography, participant observations and visual recordings. Authors listed in the compendium by Lyon (2022) do not hesitate to use more or less novel tools like slow motion video, quantitative big data analysis or drawing. Other recent works also provide an overview, a list of methods or approaches as we mentioned in the previous section. Even visual studies appear employing sophisticated visualizations that use timelines, maps, follow patterns and put side by side rhythms and flows into rhythmanalytical “graphs” (De Wandeler, 2016; Gibert-Flutre, 2022; Nevejan and Sefkatli, 2020). Nevertheless, methodological approaches are often used separately and are often rather experimental. This paper contributes to these engagements and methodological discussion and aims to fill some of the perceived methodological gaps.
While rhythmanalysis has evolved from a conceptual orientation (Edensor, 2010; Simpson, 2012) into a plural and adaptable approach, methodology and strategy employed across disciplines (Lyon, 2022), this study reconsiders its potential from another angle and addresses a certain gap that remains in systematic documentation of how traditional empirical methods can be combined within a rhythmanalytical framework. Rather than proposing wholly novel techniques, we stand by the renewed productivity of traditional methods when strategically combined. We present a set of methods often used in empirical research in social sciences in order to point out the practical possibilities of multi-angled rhythmanalysis.
This approach does not reject innovation but demonstrates that existing social science tools, when recontextualized, can offer fresh insights into the temporal and spatial organization of everyday life. In doing so, it contributes to the rhythmanalytic perspective, which may continually redevelop its framework within an aptly chosen repertoire of broad research methods. It also allows us to leverage the potential of the empirical ones for which they are used: comparability, facticity, reproducibility – in various possible combinations.
We describe and evaluate the complementarity and synergic effects of these methods. The case study itself views rhythmanalysis as a practical, urban design (Nevejan and Sefkatli, 2020) and comprehension tool. In accenting the representational conception of rhythms, we elaborate upon the rhythmanalysis and connect it to a more data-driven empirical approach that can stand as an addendum to the more established, conceptual approach that is often based on impressions, flâneur-like observations, philosophical reflections and certain virtuality of rhythms. Intentionally, we avoid the latest non-representational rhythmanalytical stances, but acknowledge them as possible to use for the same purpose of our study – strategic combination and synergy.
The main goal of the research is to 1) extend rhythmanalysis with enriched methodological framework, making the process transparent and emphasizing a combined empirical focus. Following such steps might lead to an elaboration of a more established, methodological approach while preserving its dynamics, openness, and transdisciplinary potential. And, 2) apply this methodology to a case study, which is an exploratory descriptive probe into this particular urban transformation.
Case study: Smíchov railway station
In order to fulfill the goals of the paper, we used a case study. Methodologically, and for the purpose of this paper, the case study provided a testing ground for our transdisciplinary approach, allowing us to evaluate how different methods captured various dimensions of urban rhythms. This nested case study documented the current situation and observed ongoing dynamics and rhythmic changes in a transport hub undergoing transformation – a context where, as noted in the literature, disparate rhythms converge and can be observed. By following the initial stages of transformation, we aimed to capture rhythms changing, disappearing or emerging, thereby validating the view of rhythms as omnipresent urban lubricants while contributing to reproducible methodologies for future rhythmanalytical research.
The Smíchov project
We focused on monitoring processes within a significant urban change of the Prague district Smíchov, marketed under the umbrella name “Smíchov City”. The railway in this district opened in 1862 and once played an important role in this industrial part of town: thousands of railroad cars from the famous Ringhoffer Works, located nearby, used to head into the world via the Smíchov train station (Jungmann, 2007: 61). In 2020, construction began on the site, aiming to change the area of approximately 21 hectares, based on a large architectonic competition from 2014 (Institut plánování a rozvoje hlavního města Prahy, 2021; Brablecová and Kloudová, 2015). According to the developer Sekyra Group, it is the largest single project in the modern history of the city (Praha.eu, 2020). The part of the changes and focus of our case study is the Smíchov railway station (in Czech: Smíchovské nádraží), which will see major changes as well, turning into a concentrated modern multi-modal transportation point under the new name: Terminál Smíchov (Institut plánování a rozvoje hlavního města Prahy, 2021). As the transformation of the “Smíchov City” neighborhood will take more than one decade, our study is intended as a part of long-term activity. It allows for comparability with a potential subsequent analysis – similarly as Kärrholm (2016) did in his work in which he compared a study on territorial productions of Malmö's Stortorget square from 1978 with his own observation conducted in 2013. In this paper, we present the initial points and observations we made in order to describe the current state of affairs, in anticipation of the change.
First, to provide a wider context, this change can be considered as a follow-up to an on-going process of the transformation of a wider Prague area of Smíchov. The process began as early as by the turn of the millennium, although the transformation of nearby Anděl junction that has changed to a commercial and business area was in fact launched in the late 1970s (the subway station Anděl opened in 1985 under the name of Moskevská – Moscow station). Temelová and Novák (2011) or Temelová (2016) followed the wider regeneration dynamics of Smíchov neighborhood also through extensive research but focused their direct, field observation on locally significant micro-spaces, their users, urban rhythms and everyday practices. Terminál and Smíchov City are officially presented as flagship projects of a new Prague development, yet the city has no prior experience with the construction of a whole new, inner-city district.
A railway station is a place where disparate rhythms can be observed and we relate it to the literature mentioned in the next section. The particular railway station we chose for our study is a place where the change and interwoven rhythms can be followed (Figures 1 and 2). But the railway station is also a place whose unique atmosphere may dilapidate into an uniform, soulless space. Thus, the case is suitable for our research both as (1) an example for our methodological development and reflections, and (2) as an actual object of research.
In the course of our research, different disappearing rhythms and their reminders have been recognized by the travelling public. This photograph shows traces of a refreshment stand which was in operation until August 2018. “Nothing will remain here for the normal people. I do not think that you will buy a hot dog here for 14 CZK here in the future, like from me,” said Mr. Krutta at the time of closing his business. (Jansová, 2018)
The death of Mr. Krutta, the former merchant of the fast food stand on the third platform was remembered four years after the stand had closed, with the death announcement and his portrait photo; people were leaving flowers on the spot of the former popular shop. Photographs taken on 8th of April, 2022.
Urban change: Regeneration or destruction?
Projects of urban regeneration, revitalization of brownfields or neglected city areas are common and more frequent in past decades than ever before. They are also subject of various studies, including those rhythmanalytically related. The contribution titled Consuming Urban Rhythms: Let's Ravalejar by Degen (2010) is worth mentioning in our Smíchov context, as there are similarities in the nature of the observed space and also the rhythmanalytical perspective. The author focused on a centrally planned transformation of a derelict yet lively quarter in Barcelona, yet she noticed how rhythms, people and other actants often escape these efforts or softly subvert them. Even though the quarter has changed, it preserved its genius loci and vibe to a certain extent: “Linear tunes of developers has been remixed by a variety of local and global forces into a unique combination of tempos, intensities and tunes that produce El Raval's public life.” (Degen, 2010: 29) Smíchov has changed too – from an industrial quarter, through a seedy, infamous but authentic neighborhood, to paint-peeled, historical district that began to change years ago. Therefore, we understand the need to follow processes and rhythms involved in the long run. From a broader perspective, Kärrholm also observes that “the rhythms of the industrial city of Malmö have changed into rhythms largely conducted by aspects of consumer society” (2009: 4; 2016: 17).
Closing of small well-established shops and services may indicate the birth of a less inclusive and “true” non-place (Augé, 1992). Besides optimistic presentations of those involved, there are concerns about gentrification and financialization of the area, which has possibly already started as Nakládal had observed in his on-site walkthrough analysis focused on Smíchov (c2021). We can also refer to Degen's observation of how El Raval went through and dealt with gentrification, attracting an experiential tourist gaze: “[…] one could argue that marginality, often related to uncontrolled and unexpected experiences, is becoming a desired attraction in increasingly homogenized landscapes… existence of immigrants, of prostitution, of extreme poverty are ‘signs of authenticity’ as long they are interspersed with trendy bars […]” (Degen, 2010: 30) Only with the difference that Smíchov City might head to even stronger homogenization of space without any residues of the past as it is brand new – and as such, does not attract tourists at this time, does not appropriate historical development, doesn't remix. It is simply built anew.
Concerning the spatial-temporal homogenization and emergence of non-places, we assume that there might also be a room for “retailization”. Kärrholm develops this notion in his rhythmanalytically-based study on the rhythm of shopping and the phenomenon of synchronization of territories of consumption. Worth mentioning is that “commercial activities can thus be associated with a renaissance of public life, as well as with trends towards privatization and social homogenization” (2009: 421). We are aware of these commercial synchronizations also in the case of the station and its change where the threat of “isorhythmic public space” (Kärrholm, 2009: 433) can emerge when its territorial complexity is weakened.
The specifics of a railway station
The example of a railway station seems to be inviting in many fields, often iconic or symbolic in culture, literature, film, but also in reflections of rhythms, rhythmanalysis and “rhythmic production of space” (Revill, 2013: 54). Reville aptly cites Edensor who chose the railway station as an archetypal place made in mobility; he vividly describes its polyrhythmy: “The obvious example of a train station reveals a very recognisable, though shifting polyrhythmy composed out of separate strands, with its periodic announcements, flows and surges of passengers, departing and arriving trains according (or not) to the timetable, the presence of newspaper sellers during rush hours, and the ongoing pulse of buying and selling in the retail outlets, as well as the interruptions, unexpected incidents and breakdowns.” (Edensor, 2010: 4)
Henriques et al. indirectly observe the birth of railway stations and related phenomena as a decisive historical event too – as such which influenced the whole social and urban environment and invited new processes and phenomena, recognizing rhythms’ importance there: “In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, theorizations of rhythm (such as Spencer's) also emerged as part of the processes of industrialization and the proliferation of new media technologies of speed and mediation. New to this context, which emphasized mobility and change as well as fragmentation of the sensory realm, was the central – even if quite ambiguous – place that rhythm acquired in conceptualizations of human psychology, social behaviour and physiology.” (2014: 6)
For Latham and McCormack (2009) who used Berlin as “kind of urban laboratory” in an urban-based field course, this everydayness was very important for “immediacy of involvement, a sensuous immersion in textures, tastes and smells that photographic images cannot capture.” They mention a student experiment in which the protagonist placed himself as a static object of social isolation in the flow of U-bahn passengers. He achieved this isolation merely by changing the rhythm of his interaction with the environment. It was a situation where allowing oneself to become sensitized to the surroundings was crucial – the fundamental bodily dimension of practizing rhythmanalysis. Similarly and not accidentally, Simpson (2015) also chose railway stations, namely Gare du Nord, Paris and St Pancras, London, as examples of “mobile spaces connected by the international rail link”. His goal was to observe their atmospheres, ambiances, departures, and arrivals through the lens of a novel audiovisual approach. Our motivation to choose a railway station in general was very similar. The change the station has been undergoing presents a decisive intervention in the city organism and it invited us to explore the mobility, dynamics, specific eurhythmia and arrhythmia of the process.
Finally, while the dominant function and rhythms of transport will be strengthened, we consider it important to analyse also subordinate, minor or less visible rhythms both now and in the future. All such rhythms underline the becoming of this place. Also, as Tony Judt (2010) noted in his essay on the history of railway, “railways were never just functional”, but were also associated with adventure, travels, pleasure and “archetypical modern experience”. Poetic dimension is yet another attractive feature for our choice.
Methods
We used multiple methods to find out how a blend of methodological approaches would suit the rhythmanalysis and how different approaches produce different results. We used an array of mostly empirical methods that were previously applied in rhythmanalytical context or in social sciences and connected standard methods to novel ones. The key point is that we did not attempt to develop them separately but in mutually beneficial assemblage. We should emphasize that the goal of these efforts wasn’t to establish a novel methodology as it sometimes happens with regard to a particular character of the researched phenomena. The point was to combine some “relatively standard social sciences methods (like semi-structured interviews) with innovative, exploratory mobile and multimedia informed approaches” (Simpson, 2015: 31). Not to ground a rigid approach, but to demonstrate the strength of their mix with regard to the possibility of grasping the actual polyrhythmic situation, evasive and elusive in their essence. Also, to justify the application of empirical methods in rhythm-oriented research.
Apart from the described methods, we decided to employ three concepts at the beginning of our research which we continually observed using all these methods. These are (1) pacemakers, (2) rhythmic elements (anchors), and (3) people. We created and populated lists of these concepts using the above described methods (for the complete list of these elements see Appendix 1). We did not elaborate a list of rhythms per se, as we were identifying elements and situations that give rise to rhythms. For example, we created a special category of rhythmic elements somewhat connected to rhythms, attracting or influencing them, yet those are neither rhythms nor pacemakers per se, as we consider them as physically tied to a particular environment. We refer to them as “rhythmic anchors” (see chapter 5.1). Finally, we used the concept of pacemakers known from human geography. (Mulíček et al., 2010; Parkes and Thrift, 1975)
The methods were used in specific sequence to make use of their advantages and disadvantages. Documentary analysis and unstructured observation were conducted in the first stage of research to explore the train station. This led to identification of general areas and the first list of people, rhythmic elements, and pacemakers (for final list see Appendix 1). After this first exploratory stage, we employed time-lapse to capture the details. Prieto De La Fuente (2018: 215) found in her time-lapse study that “[…] the picture sequences contributed with a way of slowing time down and intensifying moments so that the built environment became visible,“ and we expected to achieve a similar effect in order to study our subject of interest. The findings of these three methods were used to prepare topics for semi-structured qualitative interviews. The last applied method was structured observation (following) and the previous modes of research allowed us to prepare structured tools.
Documentary analysis was used to examine publicly available materials and gray literature. We collected the following related documents: research reports by the municipality, EIA study on environmental impacts, the project documentation, news in mass media, interviews focusing on the project published in journals generally available to the public, communication channels of civic organizations who generally mediated critical voices. We analyzed 31 documents (459 pages total). Different categories of authors, varying from public organizations to civic organizations were considered in the document analysis (e.g., the Prague Institute of Planning and Development, organizations concerned in public transport, the developer and architectural studios involved in the project or media articles on public life). These documents were coded and analysed with open coding and thematic analysis using the Atlas.ti software. We extracted 245 different codes which we grouped into 13 general code groups/categories based on their topics and orientation. We identified basic themes recurring in the documents.
Data collection
Unstructured observation was conducted from 15th of April to 30th of September 2021 and was coded by date, time and place. We repeatedly visited the station and its surroundings and used a research diary as a basic research tool. We took brief notes during the field observation that were further elaborated on right after the visit. Each observation included a timestamp. Observations also included methodological and analytical notes that helped further research. We focused mainly on processes and rhythms we identified in the environment, but we also described the surrounding spatial structures and our impressions. The data provided us with a preliminary list of present rhythms, rhythmic elements, and their relations.
On Tuesday, 27th of September 2021, we set an observing station equipped with a wide-angle digital camera at a window of the restaurant (Figure 3) that overlooks the whole central nave of the station (Figure 4), most of its entrances and points of interest. We could follow the traffic in the main nave of the station from the above without any interruptions.
The restaurant window overlooking the central nave of the station provided us with ideal observing conditions of the user traffic at the station. The situation as of September 27, 2021.
The view from our observing station.
We began recording at 9:15 and concluded the observation at 21:45, recording 12,5 h of station life. We gathered 12 000 images at rate 12 per minute. Then we rendered several versions of videos at various speeds which allowed us to see different paces of time. Time-lapse was supported by on-site observation, occasionally immersive, direct visits of the observed area and field notes in the research diary that add another, more intrinsic dimension to the technical gaze and its understanding. We further analyzed and interpreted the recorded material in a wider context and noticed the use of space, time, relations, and rhythms which would not have been possible to register in an ordinary temporality.
Also, we conducted semi-structured qualitative interviews with experts (four participants; one official of the municipality and three experts from the academic and public sector) and with people who regularly use the train station (seven participants). Interviews took place between January the 18th and March the 8th, 2022 and lasted between 45 and 120 min. Identification of experts was based on documentary analysis. The criteria of selection was availability of their expert knowledge in the analysed materials. The interviews, conducted by team members, focused on: basic information about participants, work and other relationships to the train station, the project and its comparison to similar ones, rhythms. These interviews were coded and analyzed using a similar approach as in the case of documentary analysis. We focused mainly on the topics from the interview guide and on the rhythms-related topics.
Furthermore, we conducted semi-structured qualitative interviews with people who use the train station routinely. These subjects were recruited at the site. We interviewed four participants who work at the train station and three participants who use the train station. Interviews were conducted using a semi-structured interview guide that included following topics: basic information about participants, the use of the train station, services and other rhythmic elements, perception of the train station, movement within the train station, opinions and expectations towards the project. These interviews were coded and analyzed using a similar approach as in the case of documentary analysis and expert interviews.
The last method was structured observation, following the train station users, conducted from the 9th of March to the 31st of May 2022. We focused the structured observation on uncovering the specifics of movement at the train station, intermittent and transient rhythms and related rhythmic elements. Our aim was to tail the individuals proportionally during the course of the day (considering both diurnal and circadian dimensions) and week. Our assumptions about movement of individuals at the train station were based on unstructured observations and Google Maps statistics (2022) of temporal use of the place i.e., its busyness (see Table 1). We covered them to a certain percentage of the planned observation rate. We created an observation guide and a record sheet to track the movement of individuals. We used a limited and pre-defined number of entry points at which the researcher started following each tenth person. The observation was stopped when the individual left the station or stopped for more than ten minutes (typically, waiting for departure).
Basic characteristics of the collected data and difference between collected data and estimations before the data collection.
Rhythmic anchors and pacemakers
Above, we coined the category of rhythmic elements, we call them rhythmic anchors, and this is how we conceive this term: Human geography works with the related term of pacemarkers (Mulíček et al., 2010; Parkes and Thrift, 1975).
Parkes and Thrift coined pacemakers while introducing them in this way: “These are ‘points’ (they include areas and durations) in space or points in time which are sources of timing. In an epidemiological context a permanent endemic point – such as a large city from which an epidemic moves outwards – may be thought of as a pacemaker. Another example might be the headquarters of a large company from which there is a continual flow of information which determines a production process. Opening and closing times of service outlets may be thought of as pacemakers, but they tend to fall more comfortably into the idea of ‘markers’.” (Parkes and Thrift, 1975: 654). Mulíček et al. conceive them as an “entity that designates particular temporal-spatial markers to a dweller in a particular locality, when, where and how long he should stay there; they significantly structure his day and through their generally acknowledged validity structure the day of the locality too.” (2010: 199). In a way, we may view them as a sort of widely influential metronomes.
As opposed to pacemakers, rhythmic anchors are physically significant objects in the environment which attract and define rhythmical action in the sense of often slowing the pace; typically a user stopping, resting, eating or waiting. These anchors have significant relation to the physical environment. They allow the user to meander, stop, hide, wait or rest. Users can lean on a wall there, for example, stand a cup, open a purse or write a note. They can gaze at the surroundings there or artworks, they can people-watch or just idle. Such places have their characteristics: typically, they are “sticking out”, “baying in”, they differ from the rest of the physical structure. In fact, they disturb the continuous flow of the environment.
Such anchors can be seen as usually static building blocks that affect rhythmic assemblage in any way and they are usually resistant to outside rhythms, i.e., they are anchored. What differs them from pacemakers is their physicality, tangibility, certain resistance to outside flows, definite uniqueness as they are to be seen always in one particular context of the environment (although they could be later generalized to categories).
While they can take the shape of passive elements such as walls or seating areas, they can also be represented by service points, shops or other amenities. Rhythmic anchors in our view are often of a structural character, so they will remain in place after the reconstruction of the space (and it is in our interest to confirm this during the recent rebuilding of the Smíchov station). Examples of these rhythmic anchors are in Figures 5 and 6, below. We are coining the term of rhythmic anchors and approach it yet as an open concept for further elaboration.
Examples of rhythmic anchors. Users of the stations anchor their activities at spots of this category: they rest, wait, slow-down.
Examples of rhythmic anchors. This niche created with an information panel provides a shielded space excluded from flows in the busy area.
Ethics
Given that rhythmanalytical research inherently involves observing public spaces and people's movements within them, our methodology required careful ethical considerations. We followed principles of minimal intrusion, complete anonymization and focus on collective patterns rather than individual behavior. We maintained appropriate physical and social distance, recorded no personally identifiable information and focused exclusively on aggregate patterns and flows. All data was completely anonymized, aggregated to prevent individual identification and stored securely for the sole purpose of understanding collective rhythmic patterns. We adopted a similar approach as Lyon (2016: 8), conducting rhythmanalysis at London fish market. She expressed her concerns about the vendors that were identifiable in her time-lapse recording, and thus she sought their consent. In case of time-lapse, we received permission for observing from the restaurant and from the surveillance company of the station. Furthermore, results were inherently anonymized by the nature of such methods (including image resolution which was too low to identify individual characteristics and only served to illustrate the general flows). We consider this approach exceeding the usual standard; research in this field usually does not significantly deal with ethics (for example, see Nash, 2018b; Simpson, 2012; some studies in Edensor, 2010 or Lyon, 2022; Kärrholm, 2016; to name a few references already listed in this paper).
Results
The paper describes results of a use of specific methodological sequence:
Exploratory phase: Documentary analysis and Unstructured observation Detailed capture: Time-lapse In-depth inquiry: Qualitative semi-structured interviews with experts and people who use train station (informed by previous three) Structured observation: Following (informed by all previous methods)
This sequential approach allowed each method to build upon the findings of the previous ones, creating a comprehensive rhythmanalytical framework. Each step continually informed each other and worked in specific combinations, allowing one to complement possible shortcomings of another.
First part of exploratory phase: Documentary analysis
There were only a few explicit notions of rhythm found during literature research, but they were at least present non-directly and anticipated. Most frequently mentioned were the rhythms of transport, infrastructure and “new rhythms’’ (see also Figure 7) being introduced with the planned change. The categories (code groups) and below described characteristics of the media discourse helped us to build the content of semi-structured interviews.
While some rhythms disappeared during our research (like the bike rental branch; photo taken on Feb. 5th, 2022), the indications of new rhythms emerged soon after.
While the texts authored by public bodies, the developer or actors involved in the project portrayed rhythms and rhythmic elements as unproblematic and benign, in a generally positive way and from an urbanist and planning perspective (“The intention of the Terminal project aims to optimize separate stops and transfer relations among them, improve the quality of public spaces and improve the transport organization in the area.” JK ENVI, Zubinová and Král, 2021), some investigative articles approached rhythms more dynamically and critically; from the perspective of the actual users of the space (“This district attracts new actors who revitalize the area and change its character. […] The old communities of neighbours are falling apart and gentrification is radically changing genius loci.” Nakládal, c2021).
We noticed this tension in the analyzed literature between official sources and studies by civic organizations or investigative articles. The official sources or media were generally positive, while sources where experts or locals could share their concerns were moderate or outright with negative connotations. The official bodies involved in the projects published only a few press releases, documents followed by media reprinting the same information from a single official source (typically, the developer). The information provided was often outdated or vague. The tension was obvious from rhythm-related codes. New rhythms, but also negative rhythms concerned different views on circulation of users and transportation. Codes such as Commodification, Privatization of public space or Gentrification appeared as disruptive and critical to social relations (“These unofficial hotels, which are more profitable than rental apartments, displace the original residents and contribute to the increase of rents.” Nakládal, c2021). Even descriptive codes like Greenery, Public space, Block city or New spatial patterns encompassed tension. The code groups Emotions and Criticism directly expressed a notion of disagreement. This method was helpful in combination with others because it helped us to specify procedures of others methods, we contacted actors and experts for interviews and first rhythm-related notions. Furthermore, we were able to identify broader social context via discourse of particular groups of documents.
First part of exploratory phase: Unstructured observation
This method was also helpful in combination with other methods because it helped us to specify the consequence of the tools used. This observation served to get familiar with the environment and helped us to identify first rhythmic elements, rhythms and processes. This allowed us to form the first list of the pacemakers in one of the entries. The method also proved useful to inform further research design. Most of the observed rhythm-related entries were later validated or extended with other methods. Due to the early stage of the research and the actual urban change, we noticed some phenomena or rhythms that disappeared or were modified in the course of our research (See Figures 8–10. For example, the butcher shop and the second-hand bookshop have closed; the Oáza restaurant was modernized).
The notion of new rhythms emerged already in May 2022 when this photo was taken of the new information panel in the main nave. The future Terminal Smíchov gives a chance to introduce and test new information technologies in the space of the station.
The sign in the window of the butcher shop reads: “This shop has closed. Thank you for your understanding and we wish you a happy new year.”
Both the butchers shop and the local post officehave closed during our observation. They are among the services remembered and missed by the local respondents who would often use them. Emerging rhythms are awaited with great expectations of useful services returning to the station.
Unstructured observation is close to the rhythmanalysis as it was originally conceived by Lefebvre. It is open to subjectivity, bodily perception and selectivity. A researcher would wander around the station and its surroundings and note what he considered interesting, especially in relation to everyday rhythms. Certain freedom invited the researcher to think independently, without constraints and develop a hypothesis (in our case, it was only at the later stages that some presumptions were elaborated). Using this method, the researcher could switch perspectives among the three figures that we developed – that of flâneur, analyst and storyteller. These three figures represented particular mindsets and helped the researcher while orientating in the field. Similarly, Thomas (2008, 2010) used a “methodological protocol” of three-person walk that could also be used to deepen the urban walking experience which inspired our figures. Her auto-ethnographic approach consisted of I-walk (solitary, intrinsic), you-walk (interaction with others) and he/she/they-walk (observing). The difference in approaches, the shift of focus allows for multiple modes of urban experience and interpreting the encountered phenomena. The third-person walking was analogous to the method of following which we used in the later phase, while the second-person was similar to interviews taken before.
Detailed capture: Time-lapse
Time-lapse video uploaded to YouTube (Smrčina et al., 2021) allowed us to approach temporalities not accessible by human real-time sensory apparatus and see the everyday life and rhythms of the station from a wider perspective.
Time-lapse videos helped us to validate and extend our lists of pacemakers and rhythmic elements. For example, we noticed some of the most passive rhythmic elements such as coffee machines, ATMs or the low wall used for sitting. Moreover, these elements operate without any human element and they are accessible nonstop which gives them a special status in the environment.
Denser, faster temporality of time-lapse allowed us to identify the elements that stayed unusually long at the station or just were constant in contrast with the fast-paced rhythms of transit. We identified dominant, linear rhythms which were of clock-time, but we also noticed irregularities. Following Lefebvre, linear rhythms are usually socially constructed, determined – there was the rhythm of transport, retail, work and others. The cyclical ones usually predate this conception of time – there are circadian rhythms, biorhythms, weather, and seasons. They influence each other, intermingle and in our study, their differences were often assimilated.
Video recording confirmed the notion of dominance of the main pacemakers and rhythms over the lesser ones even if the former does not eradicate the latter. Rather, these two groups acted mostly in eurhythmic relation, even though some resistance, contact or clash between them was always present (e.g., scheduled arrivals or major retail hours versus rhythms of marginalized groups, subcultures, arrhythmic interruptions, etc.) Observed dominant rhythms also illuminated the most common usage of the observed space (e.g., entrances, services, and seatings). This was demonstrated by identification of the presence of rhythmic anchors, which, interestingly (for being static), enriched the rhythmic situation.
While observing the polyrhythmic commotion of the station, the notion of Kärrholm's territorial complexity (2009) comes to mind once again, this time with the reference to the dominant presence of retail. Not only the transport, but also this segment seems to significantly rhythmicize the environment, in its synchronous, often isorhythmic manner. Yet the time-lapse shows both sides – the space is homogenized to a certain extent, especially by retail, but the richness of other flows contrasts with it on multiple planes. Here in the background, there in the foreground. We observed this having in mind the anticipated use and atmosphere of the station: likely functioning more as a retail center in the future.
We paid attention to the atmosphere and ambiance of the space, which naturally changed during the course of our observation, due to multiple factors. After two decades of its presence in the central nave, for example, the poetic second-hand bookshop closed permanently, which respondents often commented on. “Solid materials form impact upon the ambiance and atmospheres and such ambiances and atmospheres in turn hold the capacity to shape the conduct of various bodies that reside within them,” Simpson notes (2015: 29). Due to the longer temporal perspective of the research we noticed how the atmosphere is evolving from multiple angles. Not only as a “feature of the subject's mental life”, but also as a product of the environment, of the objects and phenomena encompassed within it, even seemingly inert. Or the behavioral patterns of users, certain moods, atmosphere of the station during the rush hour, or when it got deserted in the evening… These atmospheres were not caused only by bodies but also by other, background, non-bodily elements. The empty hall at night held a notion of uncanny (Vidler, 1987), similar to notes of Gibas (2013) in his hauntological study on Prague underground. More or less visible tension and affections were constantly at play at this mobilities-based playground. As Lyon describes in her vignette: “Suddenly we arrive in the station, the grand site of modernity. The train doors open and the crowd moves briefly se. Then the ‘invisible ties’ of the journey are gone (Elden, 2006) as people shift into different rhythms and relations.” (Lyon, 2022: 2).
Time-lapse allows us to stretch and condense the time and durations and allows for repeated playbacks to study the phenomena. The loop allowed us to continually develop novel interpretations emerging in the process of repeated watching; those also differed from one researcher to another. Particular interpretations are then to be further discussed and synthesized. Recordings can support interviews and contribute to other methods, as they are graphic, understandable and flexible in terms of replaying, modifying and grasping the content.
On the other hand, there is also the detached, objective and “cold” gaze (Simpson, 2015: 34) which time-lapse delivers. Without interpretation, it doesn’t answer the underlying motivations and can access the less obvious rhythms only with difficulties. This was especially true at the station which is a busy place. Eventually, only pigeons at the station hall are the most stable live elements in the picture as they appropriate their “railway aviary” which contrasts with their natural outdoor environment. Time-lapse brought in the notion of being detached from our actual presence at the scene and watching it retrospectively, we needed to employ former impressions to recollect the sense of once having been the direct participants. Time-lapse was combined with other methods that included the ground view (being-inside) and more embodied experience.
Similarly, Prieto de la Fuente (2018) showed in her rhythmanalytical work focused on Värnhemstorget square that time-lapse has some setbacks, too, which she aimed to counter by using the method of collages.
We can view this as comparable methodological move where visual methods are mobilized alongside field notes: “Working with collages has been a way to come closer to the possibility and the impossibility of form-taking mentioned in the previous section. The collages can capture rhythm architectures in ways that are difficult or even impossible to do through time-lapse photography, free photography or filming. For me, working with collages was thus an opportunity to extract and visualise ideas from my material,both empirical and theoretical, in a new way.” (Prieto de la Fuente, 2018: 218)
This coupling of time-lapse with representational devices underwrites our own use of time-lapse to render durations while keeping open the qualitative registers of rhythm (in a sense where we helped ourselves using complementary field notes, drawings during the recording). Apparently, for de la Fuente it served as a device in hope to stabilize the dynamic visuality of the time-lapse which might be difficult to grasp at times. And this also accents what we state about the need to use complementary methods which may help each other.
To conclude, time-lapse video was helpful in combination with other methods because it made accessible less obvious, slower and more stable rhythms, processes and flows which were not identifiable with other methods. While we knew what to focus on in general, it also helped to form subsequent methods.
In-depth inquiry: Interviews with experts
Farkas (2020: 119) has argued that experts (designers, architects or authorities in general) have the means and formal license to shape the way appropriation of public spaces takes place. Often, this formal license is not scrutinized, and so they can appropriate the public space with determination and force unavailable to an inhabitant (user). We wanted to involve both categories in our research, as qualitative semi-structured interviews with experts are a suitable method to identify rhythms, rhythmic elements, and pacemakers in their broader context which the experts can provide. For example, experts are able to describe structural differences between different groups of individuals using the train station and provide expectations about future developments. However, their expert opinion might be limited and the topics should be further investigated with direct observation of the rhythms. In the case of the Smíchov train station, the experts were able to identify the risk of rhythmic hegemony or gentrification. The ongoing change of the station and its surroundings (projects focused on the new district with substantial share of office buildings) will, according to the experts, strengthen the rhythms of office workers (arrival in the morning, luncheon break, departure in the afternoon) and the rhythms of other groups (local workers or homeless) might be hindered. For example, services (bookshop, station restaurant), which are significant rhythmic elements at the train station, were closed in the course of the study; further changes might be expected due to the rising rents after the renovation. This leads to changes of the transit rhythms for the individuals that use these services.
In-depth inquiry: Interviews with users of the station
Interviews with people who use the train station allowed us to find out how the informants describe their rhythms and how they are connected to their surroundings at the train station, rhythmic elements, and pacemakers. Based on the interviews, we identified two basic rhythms, first can be described as a transient rhythm “and other as intermittent rhythm”. The intermittent rhythm is characterized by the shorter stops or longer stops at the station while the transient rhythm is described as just passing through the station to get to the means of transport. The rhythms of informants are influenced by different factors. The interviews show that the perception of space as unattractive, dilapidated and dirty or authentic and attractive is influential. As one respondent put it: “I always try to get out of there as quickly as possible and get to my destination. Whether it is the tiles in the subway corridor or the platforms, they are terribly disgusting and really make me uncomfortable. One is even afraid to sit on a bench, there is no place to put your bag while waiting for the train to arrive - you have to either hold it or stand it on that dirty ground.” (Respondent 10, Man, 29 years)
Based on the interviews, the perception of the train station as unattractive, dilapidated and dirty seems to lead to transient rhythm while the perception of the train station as authentic and attractive leads to an intermittent rhythm. The influence of rhythmic elements was also described by the informants. The availability and affordability of services or benches leads to greater use of the train station space and to the intermittent rhythm. The ongoing changes at the station are already having an effect on the rhythmic elements. “Well, there used to be snacks here and we had the Krušovice bakery, there were socks sold over there, there was a delicatessen shop over there, there was a post office on the left outside, the key maker ended there as well at the end of the year… it used to be a very lively space here, it was like an anthill here, even on Sundays, but now it is dead here.” (Respondent 6, Man, 66 years) “Do you ever go to the Oáza restaurant?” “No. I am not rich enough to pay 65 korun for a tripe soup.” (Respondent 5, Man, 51 years)
The strength of this method in combination with others is that the analysis of the interviews allowed us to inquire about rhythms and their context from the perspective of individuals and their experiences. Informants might be limited to their own experiences and perspectives and therefore it is advisable to interview informants from different groups. In our case, we interviewed informants using the train station as well as workers from the train station, both having positive and negative perceptions of the train station and using it differently.
Structured observation: Following
We observed 101 individuals for 611 min. The weekday, daytime and entry point corresponds roughly with our estimations (see Table 1). Estimations were made before the structured data collection and based on unstructured observation. Difference between estimation and collected data in case of entry point was caused by the fact that only a few people used the park entrance, and we had to sample each tenth individual in line with our methodology, which was especially time-demanding during less busy weekends.
Table 2 shows basic descriptive results of the following. The two basic patterns, stopping and just passing by, representing the transient and intermittent rhythms were almost evenly spread among the tailed individuals. The services (for example, bakery or bookshop) at the station were used by almost a third of individuals that stopped at the station. The 54% of individuals did some stop related to transit, such as buying tickets or reading a timetable, which also shows that transient rhythms are prevalent. Furthermore, for the majority of individuals, the end point was some kind of transport (77%) and 16% left by foot. Eight individuals (8% of tailed individuals) stayed at the station, two of them ended their travels at the station restaurant Oáza.
Descriptive results of following.
Note: The STOPS variable has multiple options and therefore these do not add up to 100%. For example, one individual could stop at each of these places or at only one of them.
We also investigated differences between weekend and working week and time periods during the day. We did not employ statistical testing due to low occurrences of the observed phenomena and thus we used only descriptive statistics for explorative analysis. Table 3 shows that individuals stopped at the station more at the weekend and that the transient rhythms are more prevalent during the week.
Number of stops during different time periods.
If we look at the time of the day, people stop at the station mostly in the afternoon and late evening. Tailed individuals in the morning left the station only by transport, around lunch also by foot (see Table 4).
Means of exit during different time periods.
The data support the assumption that people tend to stop less often in rush hours and generally at times where the strongest rhythms of work prevail (weekdays, morning, lunch, evening) and when people commute to/from home or work. Other times are more relaxed. The availability of leisure time often leads to making at least a short stop. In the evening, people tend to move through the station fast, without unnecessary stops. It reflects the after-dark atmosphere at the emptying station and it is visible from the time-lapse footage, too.
The disadvantage of this method is that it requires manual, defined tenets and pre-specified recording sheets and because of that it is best applied after other methods or within a specified theoretical framework because the materials should be pre-specified. We discovered that it is useful to use cell phones and digital spreadsheets to take notes because it is less obvious and easier to use to enter data when on the move.
As the method is obliged to follow the pre-defined scheme, it doesn’t take into account the “felt”, intrinsic dimension that is often typical for performative rhythmanalysis. However, it was useful in combination with other methods because we were able to confirm and observe our assumptions about individual rhythms. On the other hand, it goes beyond the individual and can draw closer to an abstraction of personal or bodily rhythms of the other users of the space.
Discussion
We followed the main goal of the article to extend the rhythmanalysis, making its methodology more transparent and to outline possible ways of its application in empirical research in the case study of the urban change of the Smíchov railway station. For this purpose, we assembled a set of research methods. We described advantages, disadvantages, recommendations for future research and relations to the rhythmanalysis for each method in Table 5. This table summarizes the potential of methods to be employed in a rhythmanalytical context.
Methods used for rhythmanalysis – findings, advantages, disadvantages and recommendations.
None of the employed methods is entirely new, even though we presume some of them have not been routinely used in a rhythmanalytical context. We claim that the actual strength of such research is in the synergy of the methods. Many rhythmanalytical studies so far used only one or a few empirical methods. We outlined an example sequence in which they could be used. The methods informed each other and served us to gain a deeper understanding of rhythmic processes, to assemble lists of rhythms, pacemakers and rhythmic elements. It was important to choose the right ones for the context and assemble them in a way beneficial for rhythmanalytical research.
Documentary analysis and unstructured observation were shown as useful exploratory tools at the beginning of the research. It allowed us to explore and get familiar with the topic, broader social context and environment, to identify actors and access present rhythmic elements. This was useful in combination with other methods because one informed another and the result helped us to use them in the desired way. However, these methods also had disadvantages. In literature search, there was discursive bias, scarcity of sources and explicit notions of rhythms. Unstructured observation might be considered subjective (however, it can also be viewed as an advantage) and tied to the person of the researcher. Furthermore, it might be difficult to interpret field observations and identify rhythms (for example, rhythms of longer duration). Time-lapse was useful in ability to analyze longer duration in the observed area and possibility to extract at first incomprehensible rhythms from repeated playbacks. However, it could not access the directly lived experience, individual people and less significant rhythms – which were achieved by other methods. In this, the methods complemented each other.
Findings of the three described methods were useful in the given sequence of methods and were used to prepare topics for semi-structured qualitative interviews. The interviews complemented structured observation and time-lapse with ability to understand rhythms from the individual perspective (interviews with users of the train station) and with wider context of rhythms (interviews with experts). As a disadvantage, coding possibly reduced and simplified the complexity of the locutions.
The last applied method was structured observation and the previous modes of research helped to prepare structured tools. We decided to conceive the structured observation in the form of the following: we used parametrized observation sheets typical for social sciences research, which might not be used often when conducting rhythmanalysis, yet Kärrholm also chose this way in his territoriological study and structured observations of Stortorget square (2016: 5). With regard to rhythmanalysis, following is a novel method even though there exist studies that performed rhythmanalysis through walking. Our approach took inspiration from these, especially from works by Louise Nash (2018a, 2018b, 2022) or Yi Chen (2013). Chen accented the bodily dimension of walking and rhythms in accordance with Lefebvrian view. Nash (2018a, 2018b) contributes more methodologically, combining “rhythmanalytical walking” in crowds with interviews. A train station is usually smaller than the City of London, which Nash explored; or than an entire city organism with its urban rhythms (Henckel and Thomaier, 2013). Therefore, the choice to follow individual people allowed us to approach the particular lived experience of the users more directly and get closer to them. Walking through the space and perceiving it in a direct, sensoric manner is a practice typical for performative rhythmanalysis in its original phenomenologically-based sense. While we respected and followed this modus operandi, we adapted it to our goals and tried to reconcile it with the method of structured observation, distant and personal, at the same time. Qualitative interviews complemented the following and the time-lapse, because it offered information about the motives of the individuals. Our approach to structured observation was suitable for quantification of individual rhythms, allowing the researcher to get closer to individuals and their personal rhythms. However, it can’t access the bodily, intrinsic dimension typical for performative rhythmanalysis.
Rhythmanalysis might often seem to be a speculative method. Nevertheless, our contribution shows it can strive to be built on more solid grounds at the same time. Its bipolarity can be steered in either way, as long as there is a balance and awareness of each side of the research. There is always a focus on a certain phenomenon, but it was the actual demonstration of all these parts aptly fitting together that we considered worth exploring. Rhythmanalysis possibly becomes as ephemeral as objects of its interest and we claim it can withstand a certain level of anchoring without losing its dynamic, subversive and open appeal. This sits with an architectural conception that treats the built as processual rather than fixed as de la Fuente notes in her: “[…] research renders architecture as a moving target, or architecture as sequences of spaces in repetition; in this context, this means that architecture is what rhythmically reappears in variation, while being not identical in repetition.” (Prieto de la Fuente, 2018: 16) This mirrors also our attempt to employ rhythms without sacrificing their variability.
Time-lapse has been used occasionally in the beginnings of rhythmanalytical research. Recently, Lyon (2016) supplemented time-lapse-based rhythm analysis of the Billingsdale fish market with immersive, field observation and short talks. We were inspired by her combination of the on-site practical rhythmanalysis, time-lapse and interviews in this study, but we extended this and evaluated how these approaches complemented each other. The choice of the environment is also similar to our choice of the train station – both environments are rhythmically rich, dynamic which makes them an appropriate example for testing rhythmanalytical research. Simpson (2012) contributed to the rhythmanalytical usage of time-lapse in his study that connected it with the Lefebvrian approach. At first, the study had raised the question whether rhythmanalysis lacks any empirical foundations: “There has been a more modest and slower response in terms of a move towards methodological development and innovation based on this theoretical animation.” (2012: 425) This is why we focused on strengthening its methodological groundedness.
At times, certain vagueness of rhythmanalytical approach was one of its pitfalls for some, and one of its advantages for others – as it left the door open for creative interpretations. As for time-lapse itself, our research confirms that it is a relevant method in rhythmanalysis, because it adds more perspectives to the research and validates those discovered by other methods. Similarly, other audio-visual techniques can be tried and employed as Simpson (2015) examined with a multi-angle video recording, yet following slightly different aims (academic, artistic and also re-creating the gaze of panoptical, surveillance society). We focused narrowly on a simple one-camera time-lapse because we wanted to analyze the benefits or setbacks of this method in our context. It added a different view on the temporality of the railway station, its everyday rhythms. However, we must stress that the method, if used separately, may be insufficient as it provides only one particular perspective which likely lacks deeper comprehension of the inner motifs and dynamics beneath the directly observable phenomena. For example, the researcher may lack information about motivations of the people, their attitudes toward the environment, emotions or power relations in situ. Exploring rhythms per se often attempts “to find conceptual resonances between rhythm and such notions as affect, virtuality and power.” (Henriques et al., 2014: 4) But time-lapse alone lacks an extra layer, therefore complementing time-lapse with interviews proved to be beneficial. While time-lapse provided an overall perspective and different understanding of durations (in comparison with the real-time, direct sensory perception), the interviews allowed us to answer questions we had about the inner dynamics of the railway station and its usage in general.
The particular application of time-lapse highly depends on the selection of the observed environment, its character and the level of knowledge of the area. On the other hand, time-lapse may be an apt method even for the preliminary analysis, but we are convinced that it is better to use it with an already informed point of view. We also suggest that using multiple “eyes” (meaning: devices) to record the scene is worth trying to create an assemblage that could be interactively controlled, including individual time-flows. Also, the essential part of time-lapse is the interpretative work stemming from repeated playbacks or creative post-production. Such material also represents an effective illustrative tool to complement other methods or phases of research (such as interviews where the respondents can directly react to the video and reflect it, without being distracted in situ or would have to rely merely on their memory or subjective impressions.)
We reviewed official sources but our findings varied from the image created by the official bodies or media. For example, we saw that the public participation was presented as successful by the city officials, but local inhabitants suggested the opposite and were left with an impression that it was used for the developer's public image purposes, not for actual urban experience value. These opinions were frequent in certain media articles (Nakládal, c2021; Rychlíková, 2021; Zabloudilová, 2021). This revealed an inner discord in the overall discourse, a matter of conflicting rhythms that relate to power relations – something which also Lefebvre focused on through the thinking with rhythms.
We followed the initial stages of the transformation of Smíchov railway station. Even within this limited scope, we saw rhythms emerging, changing or disappearing: for instance, some services and businesses closed, construction works led to transport closures and diverts which changed the established rhythms and spatial and temporal patterns, paths and habits of the users of the station. Micro-rituals that were connected with shopping at several local retails disappeared. On the other hand, construction works not only changed some former rhythms, but at the same time attracted new ones that directly relate to the work: new supply chains and routes of the material, work force and such. Some rhythms were only temporary and uncertainty of the changing environment also influenced how people behaved and double-checked their routes. We noticed the ways the rhythmic entropy might stabilize in firm, yet sometimes unlikely patterns after the project's completion (for example, new shortcuts, new habits, potential representative/symbolic function of the new terminal). If we metaphorically spoke about rhythms being the omnipresent urban lubricants, in the opening chapter of our description of the case study, we now can say that we believe we can say that we have validated this presumption. Since the applied methods and the steps of the research were described, we are determined to follow the existing project with consecutive analyses of the same character to investigate further development of rhythmic changes. Comparability of the findings is an important aspect for following studies.
Our focus was dominated by visual perception of the problem and we understand that involving other aspects or senses is of great importance and beneficial, but stood beyond the scope of this research. Soundscapes, non-human rhythms like the influence of weather or following myriad of external conditions offer possibly valuable findings and research designs for future investigations. There are many different concepts waiting to be used and experimented with within the framework of rhythmanalysis (for example, aural, olfactory or haptic based research, as well as the use of novel technologies, centrifugal and centripetal approach, cultural historical analysis, non-human rhythms, gender mainstreaming, rhythmical inequality or democracy, to name a few). In our research, we identified two rhythms of transit and conceptualized them as intermittent and transient rhythms. These two rhythms relate to how the station was used and approached by its users.
We did not merely observe rhythms: besides the concept of pacemakers, we established and put to use rhythmic elements, which we coined as rhythmic anchors as part of our own research. While we anchored and presented this concept, we look forward to seeing this concept further elaborated on and tested.
Also, the question of the ethical perspective of such extensive practical rhythmanalytical research arose. Such a question will always be present when using certain methods. It is up to the researchers to carefully follow established ethical standards, yet balance their observations so that the results remain authentic and are not skewed. How to observe, how to intermingle in the crowd and become part of it and how to then focus merely on the abstract concepts without intervention? This requires the researcher to remain sensitive also to this part of the inquiry.
Conclusions
The study is a significant contribution to the plural methodological framework that rhythmanalysis stands on at this time. Based on the findings, the key advice is not to conceive the rhythmanalytic project as one-sided; it is better to utilize its framework with different methods and focus on their synergic effect and carefully plan their sequence. Most of the methods in our case study were empirically based which is beneficial to provide rhythmanalysis with a firmer basis. But we do not advise to rely solely on empirical methods and exclude the others, which have been used most often in rhythmanalytical context to date. We encourage taking advantage of their combination and their multifaceted perspectives. We strived to come up with a reproducible methodology to encourage fellow researchers in the discussion. In a particular order and context, we employed selected methods and described their contribution to the synergic effect enriching a typical rhythmanalytical outcome.
We can conclude with notions of how the methods allow to capture the rhythms and thus how they might be used in future analysis to enrich rhythmanalysis. Document analysis methods can be beneficial to reveal hidden hegemonies and disputes in the analyzed discourse. For instance, they may reveal certain power relations among the involved subjects. Unstructured observation can help to identify the lists of present phenomena related to rhythms (for example, pacemakers) and particular types of singular rhythms of the observed subjects. In this case, for example, how they used space and time through intermittent and transient rhythms. This helps to better understand how the space is structured and designed and how users approach it rhythmically. Structured observation helps to pinpoint general types of users and reveals the relation between physical space and their behavior.
Time lapse is an apt method to identify mobility rhythms and trajectories, including the less obvious ones. Solitary, distinctive rhythms can stand out in their different, temporal dimension. In our case, this also included rhythmic anchors that resist the fast-paced dominant rhythms around them. Time lapse may be beneficial to see how the overall atmosphere and ambiance (of the station) changes in the course of the day and evening. This is not immediately obvious in real time.
Certain methods like observations or time-lapse are better suited to identify linear or cyclical rhythms which can be validated through the document analysis methods. In our case, linear rhythms (such as the clock time) dominate the environment, which is well accessible through structured observation, time-lapse where the rhythms of transport, pacemakers like work, are well observable. Cyclical rhythms might not be that dominant, but they are more stable, often better visible from a longer perspective, which makes them better accessible through unstructured observation, interviews or the original rhythmanalytical immersion in the field. The employed methods are also apt to identify specifics of cyclical rhythms of day and night, to evaluate immediate effects of weather rhythms, but less suited to access the cyclical rhythms of the periods of the year. Still, the proposed methods can contribute to revealing how linear and cyclical rhythms are not separate but intertwine in specific constellations – sometimes eurhythmic, sometimes arrhythmic. Linear rhythms in general are better accessible by empirical methods which correspond to the original, often artificial nature of these rhythms.
Using the methods we described allows us to combine their perspectives to build the image of the whole, complex rhythmic assemblage present in the analyzed environment. Usually, it is an imprint of a certain period in time. It can show only partially how the assemblage develops in time, but it can also reveal its dynamics and logic and be used for further, later comparison.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
This publication is the outcome of the project Case study on transformation of Smíchov railway station from the rhythmanalytical perspective realized at the Charles University, Faculty of Humanities and was supported by the GAUK programme (GA UK No. 308221) and by the institutional support programme of the Charles University, Progres No. Q06/LF1.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Grantová Agentura, Univerzita Karlova, (grant number GA UK No. 308221).
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.