Time, Space, and How “Place is an Ensemble Concept”

Megan Workmon Larsen
7 min readFeb 6, 2017

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The Promenade by Marc Chagall, 1918. Celebrating his marriage to his love Bella, Chagall paints himself holding a bird in one hand while Bella floats up to the sky. Chagall holds her in place.

Reading an odd variety of work as of recent, novels on dark matter, essays on creative cities, books on inevitable death, research on educational systems, synopses of how hopes are squashed and dreams achieved through shear grit, I’m keeping thinking about time, space, and the timeline of our dreams. Dreams in the waking sense, the things we want to achieve over time in our own worlds rather than a sleeping fever-state caused by indigestion from too many spicy snacks. I want to attempt to delve deeper into these ideas — Attempt, as I make no promises to stay on topic given the shiny, shiny world at hand and my penchant to be easily distracted especially when looking for new procrastination tools. My questions really revolve around the ideas of the very precipice of a dream, when we lose our way along the way, and how sometimes the death of a dream is really just the rebirth of another.

Where are dreams born? Where do they die? And, where are they reborn yet again?

Space, Not Just the Final Frontier. Rather, Just an Abstracted Place.

In geography, space is an abstraction, a location without substantial meaning while place is how people interact with a particular piece of space. Places are special, unique, full of experiences and relationships. We make meaning of space to turn it into our own locale.

An understanding of place is fundamental to the concept of livability. People live in places, move within and between places, and depend on the movement of goods to and from places… One must avoid the temptation to think of place only as a location or a piece of territory, despite the fact that many data are collected and presented for a specific territory, especially territory delimited by political boundaries. A place is distinguished by its people, markets, governments, and institutions, as much as it is by its physical landscape and natural resources, transportation systems (including streets and roads), buildings, and boundaries. Like livability and sustainability, place is an ensemble concept.— Community and Quality of Life, Chapter 2

With place comes place-identity, the meaning and significance of said location to each person within its boundaries as well as how the environment in turn influences each person’s self-concept. Our place makes us who we are even as we make our own place. I love the idea of place being an “ensemble concept,” and it makes me think of how creative people inhabit, change, and reorganize places through their work.

In discussing creative cities and urban hubs of arts and culture, Ann Markusen (2014) asks four questions of cultural institutions: 1) What are the missions of urban arts/culture locations? 2) How do ethnic, racial, immigrant, and working class arts/culture embed themselves in urban environments versus how are they treated by mainstream arts ecologies? 3) How do people participate in arts/culture in terms of place (what they attend and where they choose to live)? 4) How to creatives decide where to locate?

Simply, place is exceedingly important in the arts. If you’d like to attend a interdisciplinary arts extravaganza of excellence and innovation featuring renowned people in their respective fields, you will likely be going to a city to sit amongst the blue-haired donors and/or usual suspects of privilege. You might go to a rural location once in a while to participate in a homey event that recalls nostalgically the simpler days, but, in my experience, these tend to come with an even heftier price tag with the same people masquerading in their curated camp costumes. (I see you, Coachella, Burning Man, Opera in Some Weird Place, Aspen…). That’s not to say that art and cultural spaces are reserved for urban locales or only those of a certain socio-economic status. Cultural institutions exist across all boundaries, borders, and locales — They are places that bring people together. They are places for dreams. How they treated by their own field, however, varies greatly.

Considering the realm of education against this backdrop, I also think Markusen’s questions as to why people select where they live and what they attend transfer over quite nicely over as place determines both educational access and excellence. Access to education is an American ideal, that, well, we don’t do very well. We struggle in terms of scope, scale, access, and equity. Darling-Hammond (2009) sums up this all very nicely in her work — Here’s a snippet.

That struggle has concerned not only access to schooling but access to an empowering form of education — one that can enable people to think critically and powerfully, to take control of the course of their own learning, and to determine their own fate — rather than merely to follow dictates prescribed by others. — Linda Darling-Hammond, The Flat World and Education

Engaging in critical and powerful thought, taking control of their approach, and determining their own fate — This sounds remarkably like the young creative setting out into the world to find their place.

So, if you are a young creative, producing work that is about to find traction in the sweeping embrace of your field, do you move to a city known for your discipline? Or, do you select someplace with a lower cost of living at which you can continue producing larger scale pieces while working in a less saturated locale? And, when you start considering a family after meeting the love of your life at some gallery opening or musical soiree after one too many white zinfandels, do you move someplace that has a better educational system, a lower cost of living, more opportunities? How do you make your choices and how do they change over time? I’m really interested in how creatives navigate place selection at different points in their lives, balancing the draw of the urban center of the arts with the need to (perhaps) produce both children, significant works, and legacy. And, how the whole subset of creative people who cannot, for various reasons, choose to relocate for work or life have been left out of these considerations as a whole. Place selection and mobility is an option for only some; How do arts institutions leave out people who do not have the privilege to select a new place? How have arts institutions in some cases invaded these landscapes? And, how has access to technology changed this formerly clustered landscape? (I have a lot of questions without many answers at this point.)

In my twenties, I did the one-woman tour of the most expensive cities (minus New York as it still scares me a bit in the best possible way), Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boston, abroad for a bit, Los Angeles yet again. I moved around in desperate search of an apartment dishwasher and a minimum of roommates, semi-reasonable cost of living on a cobbled-together wage, and a possible connection to a large arts/educational institution. And, finding myself at an unexpected cross-roads just prior to my 30th birthday, I then pretty much randomly moved to the Southwest desert on a whim. When I moved, I didn’t even take all my things, leaving half of my belongings in Los Angeles in case I wanted to return in a few months, back to my comfortable and familiar city-place. I moved because I wanted space, a new area to explore and to figure how I best fit within the larger scheme. I wanted a house with enough room for an art studio. I wanted just enough regional arts institutions to occasionally attend an opera or symphony. I wanted to have kids. I wanted to work for a large university. The ability to pursue both the arts and an education for myself and my future were why I made this choice. (I then subsequently went on three dates in my new arid state, met my husband on date three, and ended up with him along with two dogs, a house, and an art studio located 30 minutes from the regional arts hub. So, hey.) Within this adventure, the abstraction of a new space became my home. I’m still working on the whole place-identity issue though as I am still from Los Angeles at heart.

So, where is your place? Where is a space that you want to explore? Does place matter for your work? What’s your enduring place-identity?

All important questions, some still without answers.

To end, a little bit of Bowie and some Space Oddity.

I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

Sources for consideration (not in APA style as I’m living footloose and fancy-free here).

Community and Quality of Life: Data Needs for Informed Decision Making (2002) from the National Research Council/National Academies Press

Creative Cities: A 10 Year-Research Agenda (2014) by Ann Markusen (Journal of Urban Affairs)

Dark Matter (2016) by Blake Crouch

The Flat World and Education: How America’s Commitment to Equity Will Determine Our Future (2009) by Linda Darling-Hammond

When Breath Becomes Air (2016) by Paul Kalanithi

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Megan Workmon Larsen
Megan Workmon Larsen

Written by Megan Workmon Larsen

Rebellious educational researcher, storyteller, and artist with an operatic flair and human-centered approach. Teaching AI now, because why not?

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