‘Embodied Space: Parkour and the Insertion of Play into Urban Environments’ by George Maguire
Photo by Adam Dore.
Anthropology BSc, 2016. UCL.
ABSTRACT
Parkour is an emerging and modern practice which challenges participants or ‘traceurs’ to move smoothly in urban environments as they traverse commonplace obstacles in creative ways. The intentions of such movement differ among followers but a child-like, ludic, and playful quality is consistently present in the way parkour is embodied, encouraged and learnt. The traceurs in this study were members of University College London Union’s parkour society and club. Ethnography took place in unconventional spots across London due to the material environment requirements that are sought in parkour; that of concrete, railings and walls.
Based on a combination of empirical and literature insight, this study yielded several observations. Firstly, parkour is not just a physical pursuit but a moral activity that is self and community-affirming. Parkour is therefore distinct from youth activities such as vandalism, gang participation and drug consumption. It is a positive Lévi-Straussian ‘bricoleur’ approach to urban usage, offering very little to lose and significant benefits to gain in terms of fitness, personal development and social cohesion.
Parkour is set to expand rapidly due to its unique characteristics; an absence of necessary equipment, an abundance of unused, urban space and a philosophy of carefully cultivated risk that is so contagious to youth. This thesis will therefore progress from an individualistic to a global perspective in order to ascertain parkour’s utility in modernity.
0. Introduction: Parkour.
“‘Parkour culture constitutes an organic, evolving flux of individuals simultaneously exploring their autonomy through networks and communities of shared interests; choosing to train, discuss online, travel and share experiences and knowledge together.’”
Parkour Origins & Context:
Parkour is a relatively new discipline, developed by a group of youths in the French suburban town of Lisse in the late 20th Century. The term ‘parkour’ is derived from the French term ‘parcours’ which translates to ‘course’ or ‘route’1. Visually, the practice has been described as ‘street gymnastics, skateboarding without a board, a non-martial art’ (Kidder, 2012:235). Those who practice parkour are known as ‘traceurs’ (from the French translation of ‘tracers’) in communities across the globe.
Traceurs practice alone or in group sessions (called jams) in which participants show and teach each other techniques and ideas that they have picked up. Origins of the practice go back to the work of the physical educator Georges Hébert, who developed ‘la méthode naturelle’, a training regime designed for the French army. Hébert’s method focused on three main forces; the energetic, moral and physical (Hébert, 1912), emphasising that the athlete or soldier needed to ‘be strong to be useful’ (Brown, 2007:2). Hébert’s approach influenced a French firefighter, Raymond Belle and his son David Belle who would go on to found the original parkour group ‘Yamakasi’ with a group of his closest and most dedicated friends.
Yamakasi operated on a mentorship basis, offering guidance to only the most committed of students. From its inception, parkour or ‘l’art du déplacement’ (art of movement) has been a holistic practice that encapsulates mental qualities such as determination, patience and bravery alongside physical traits such as aesthetic movement, skill, strength and accuracy. Through these physical pursuits, traceurs engage in the ‘service of the heart, not the dictatorship of the ego’ (Thibault, 2013:30), to be creative and build strong local and international communities. With the mental aspects of parkour, traceurs develop what Foucault refers to as ‘techniques of the self’, the ‘thoughts, conduct, and way of being’ (Foucault, 1988:18) that pre-date the body’s eventual movements and behaviours. The practice has shared origins with the almost identical ‘freerunning’ which originated from the same group of French youths.
Freerunning and ‘tricking’ are commonly thought of as emphasising skill and acrobatic manoeuvres whereas parkour has a more introspective and philosophical nature. This thesis will condense freerunning into parkour due to their close similarities or ‘boundary work’ (Puchucki et al. 2007) alongside the fact that almost all of my informants and literature sources used ‘parkour’ to describe their personal practice.
The Philosophy of Parkour:
Parkour's overarching philosophy was formed by the original members of ‘Yamakasi’. Yamakasi saw parkour as a means of forging together the antithetical qualities of toughness and suppleness, to be able to sustain hardships such as seemingly impossible challenges in a casual effortless manner. The traceur was therefore bulletproof whilst ‘flaneur-like’ (Benjamin,1999) in their exploration abilities of a chosen and useable environment: the urban topography. Parkour is therefore unique in that it encapsulates stereotypical masculine (aggression, explosive) and feminine (balance, grace, agility and creativity) traits (Wheaton, 2010) in forging athletic yet artistic traceurs.
Since the 1990’s, parkour has become increasingly well-known by mainstream audiences thanks to the efforts of various television adverts and documentaries which feature traceurs traversing the urban environment in fresh and intriguing ways (BBC’s Rush Hour Commercial,2002, Jump London, 2003 & Jump Britain, 2005). Awareness of parkour has also spread through promotional live performances for films such as the Jungle Book (The Upcoming, 2016). Although parkour involves many sport-like qualities such as running, jumping (athletics) or climbing, many traceurs insist that it is not a sport, instead affirming that traceurs should focus on a ‘altruistic core of self-development’ (Le Corre, 2007). Parkour, therefore, at least in part, rejects the general trend of sports to ‘correspond to the patterns of Western industrialised capitalist societies' (Eichberg,1998:101) such as competitive ‘fields’ (Bourdieu, 1990), athlete ratings and the introduction of significant monetary incentives.
The intrusion of the capitalist model has created tension for some ambitious traceurs as parkour is highly marketable (Brunner, 2011:143) and has very low investment or upfront costs. Palmer’s theory of commodified risk in extreme sports where ‘made-for-media versions of extreme sports are short-lived imitations of risk, rather than serious sporting initiations’ (Palmer, 2002:58) are particularly prudent in parkour as the amount of competition and sponsorship opportunities are set to increase despite parkour’s autotelic, humble origins. Ultimately, this ‘parkour paradox’ (Angel, J. 2011:195) which places the practice as either a sport or a performance is left for the traceur to determine themselves.
My Research: UCLU Parkour Club:
My research took place within the University College London Union’s (UCLU) Parkour Club, a group set up and run by UCL students. Activities took place in London between the months of October, 2015 and April, 2016. Activities varied in duration but averaged between two to three hours, occurring exclusively on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. These sessions (or ‘jams’) varied in size from around 20 individuals to the high 40s (in the introductory sessions). A typical fieldwork session consisted of riding the underground to a station where the members of the club would meet and chat informally before walking together to a predetermined (via Facebook) location. The ‘traceurs’ that took part were a combination of 1st, 2nd, 3rd and postgraduate students, although a majority were physics students of some sort (although this was likely due the clubs president being a physics student).
Participants came from a range of backgrounds and were mostly male (around 75%). The previous athletic backgrounds of members were varied but the most common were in handstands, acrobatics, calisthenics and gymnastics. The club generally has two coaches per session who would design warmups, instruct techniques and lead the movement progressions. The coaches were all ex-members (students) as the club selects and pays for members to receive the necessary coaching certifications. There was no required uniform but we typically dressed in unrestricting clothes such tracksuit bottoms, t-shirts and the clubs purple hoodies.
Fieldwork Methodology:
During my fieldwork, I participated fully in the activities carried out by the club, seeking to progress my own skills alongside developing ideas and a fluency of the practice’s many components. This approach closely followed the work of the academic turned traceur Julie Angel and her emphasis on ‘participant observation’ for a thorough understanding of parkour (Angel, J.2011). Angel encourages immersion and depth in the practice to truly ‘get’ and understand the motives of its participants. I acknowledged that as parkour is a dynamic, unspoken and visual practice, this was the only approach that could yield significant and accurate insight. Fieldwork was considered a balancing act between active questioning and passive observation (Ameel & Tani,2012a). Many realisations would not have otherwise been possible had I adopted a more ‘arm-chair’ type anthropologist perspective.
Members of the general public also provided an excellent service and line of inquiry. Their questions, concerns and comments showed me public perceptions of our activities and kept me from becoming too self-engaged in my own practice at the expense of gaining wider understanding. In ‘getting to know’ parkour, I also made an effort to explore parkour’s solitary aspect, training alone. This was important as many renowned traceurs emphasise the importance of individual training in developing different skills to that of group training.
Qualitative and personal notes were immediately taken in a small notebook after attending these sessions. Actual names were not used as there was a lack of continuity of the members at the sessions. Following a session, my observations were typed up complete with any photos on the note taking application Evernote. This habit of ‘jotting’ allowed the later conversion into ‘longer narratives’ (Spencer, 2009:123) alongside a development of comparative analysis as I learned more about the practice through my independent research.
My presence as an ethnographer was announced on Facebook but I tried to remain unintrusive and let my eyes and body ‘do the thinking’ as much as possible. The Facebook page proved to be indispensable in my comprehension of the club’s inner working which was something that I had not anticipated.
Additionally, the active Facebook profiles of prolific traceurs such as Sebastien Foucan and Dan Edwardes were interesting and stimulating in equal measures. I subsequently had three channels of information reaching me; in-person fieldwork, online fieldwork (Facebook) and secondary sources (including literature, documentaries, amateur videos and professionally produced videos). These inputs sometimes made contrasting statements regarding parkour, its definitions, its realities and its uses but I determined to remain true to the society’s views as they formed the cornerstone of my personal analysis. Overall, my methods of participant observation could leave me vulnerable to certain biases and a weak sense of subjective thinking. Thus, a comprehensive reading of literature that concerned themes of relevant interest would give me the perspective and alterity that I needed for a balanced study.
Literature Methodology:
My relatively informal ethnography was consolidated within a literature-based analysis of central themes. Themes included the growing collection of parkour academia itself, sports studies, body studies and modern city analyses. Engaging with these resources afforded me vital, alternative perspectives to my own understanding of parkour. My research, therefore, involved a feedback system whereby questions from the field and literature were answered from within and outside my ethnography.
Due to parkour’s infancy and general introversion, anthropological and sociological studies are only beginning to understand the workings and impacts of its practice. Luckily, however, investigations of the body itself have a much richer literature on which to draw from. The body and its practices have been central to sociology since the mid-1900’s (Elias, 1939). Central to my ideas were the notions of ‘techniques of the body’ (Mauss, 1934), the perspective of phenomenology (Merleau-Ponty, 1962; Abram, 1997) and the efficacy of heritable ‘habitus’ (Bourdieu, 1977). Bourdieu-inspired ethnographies of aggressive sports such as mixed martial arts (Spencer, 2009) and boxing (Wacquant, 2006) proved to be inspirational in locating the body's role in social as well as physical performance. As I located the socio-cultural body in the city, the work of Lefebvre (1996), Simmel, (1971 [1903]) and de Certeau (1984) provided me with the analytical tools that I needed. Additionally, the modern urbanite concepts of ‘striated space’ (Deleuze & Guittari, 1987) ‘dérive’ (Debord, 1956) and the architectural body (Gins & Arakawa, 2002) offered similar insight. Lastly, Ingold’s model of creativity which emphasises the flows of materials, things and people as opposed to the traditional attention to form (Ingold, 2007), gave me a new way of looking at the potential of parkour’s diverse movement.
In recent years, parkour has begun to receive significant attention in the sociological world. As a new practice, parkour offers novel ways in which the all-consuming city can be understood. Specifically, Julie Angel’s seminal piece ‘Cine Parkour’ was invaluable in breaking down the everyday realities of parkour. Angel’s hard-earned perspective (a traceur herself) locates and accounts for elements such as embodiment, motivation, politics, use of space, imagination and commercialisation of parkour (Angel, J. 2011). Other intriguing studies have focused on parkour’s history (Atkinson, 2009), ‘everyday aesthetics' (Ameel & Tani, 2012a), ‘deterritorialisation’ (Brunner, 2011), appropriation of urban space (Kidder, 2012), emotional fear (Saville, 2008) technicality (Thibault, 2013) and social benefits (Grabowski & Thomsen, 2015 & Thorpe & Ahmed, 2015). I have also delved into various parkour documentaries (e.g. Jump London, 2003) with excitement, yet a reasonable amount of skepticism. I understood that documentaries, whilst focusing on clear subjects, still have multiple agendas which may detract from the philosophies and ideas of the traceurs themselves. In congruence with my fieldwork, the literature presents a general agreement that parkour is both here to stay and largely beneficial to societies that support it and allow it to thrive.
Research Question:
This thesis revolves around the central inquiries of ‘what do people do with parkour’ and the inseparably linked ‘what does parkour do to people’ in modern society. Whilst initially focusing on the individuals of parkour, I decided to expand this, also examining parkour as a globalising entity.
With these questions I hoped to firstly elucidate the essence of everyday life of parkour (Angel, J.2011) for UCLU traceurs and then the community at a global level. This analysis is set in a world that is fixed on rapid urban sprawl in the US (Gonzales, 2005) and on a global scale (Angel, S et al.2011). Parkour seems to be a rare vessel that can work symbiotically with modernity instead of against it. It offers release where there is tension and exploration where there is objection (physically and permissively). After all, ‘the opposite of play…is not a present reality or work, it is a vacillation, or worse, it is depression’ (Sutton-Smith, 1997:198). Society can succumb to the greyness and ‘depression’ of concrete walls or it can ascend it with the playful and creative arts; those of architecture, fine art, sculpture and parkour. A central theme will be that of ‘bricolage’ (Lévi-Strauss, 1962) or ‘restructuring and reshuffling pre-existing materials’ (Eriksen, 2003:230). With an analysis of bricolage and the potential of ‘everyday’ parkour (Hubbard, 2006:95) it is seen that parkour brings collaboration to modernity’s most relegated, ugly and forgotten areas. These may include car parks, post world war two estates and looming concrete walls. This thesis will not concern itself over the abstract or philosophical aspects of modernity (See Latour, 1993), preferring instead to focus on the material characteristics and political qualities of the world we presently live in.
Contents of Dissertation:
Chapter one deals with ‘The Practice of Parkour’, detailing the processes that traceurs undergo to develop themselves and enable play. Next, ‘Urban Bricolage’ contextualises the practical and theoretical insights from the previous chapter in a modern and predominantly urban cosmopolitan location; London. If the ‘house is a body for the body’ (Gell, 1997:253) this thesis will question what kind of container the city is for those who practice parkour.
Particular attention will be paid to the relegated locations that parkour relies on. Following this, a synthesis of the parkour body, philosophy and culture will ascertain the utility of parkour in a world that is rapidly increasing in both urban sprawl and population. Parkour is undeniably linked to modernity, its properties, its expansion and its divisions.
Throughout these chapters, the question ‘what does parkour do?’ will be continuously revisited from a singular (individual) to a multiple (global) perspective. In doing so, dichotomies such as adult/ child, closed/ free and technique/ art are revealed and affirmed or challenged. In the conclusion, it is evident that ‘playing’ in this manner has many advantages for a global urbanite society.
1. The Practice of Parkour: (Play and the Body)
In order to locate parkour in the urban environment, it is first necessary to explore issues such as the realities of parkour, the details of motivation and the modification of fear. By focusing on individual traceurs and their internal worlds, I hope to find that ‘micro-research is at once macro research, in which a precise understanding of the macro-structures of social life can, and often does, reside in at first inspection insignificant details of people’s social behaviour’ (Blommaert,2015:9). The small, personal and embodied details of ‘parkour play’ will therefore aid me in building a comprehensive understanding of parkour’s global efficacy.
1.1: Initiation:
“‘Tarzan does parkour’”
Parkour Realities:
Although arguably distinguishable from a larger category of human movement, parkour is formed out of primal movement patterns that are as ancient as mammals are. As suggested with ‘Tarzan does parkour’ (Foucan, 2012), parkour is elemental and physical, involving running, jumping and swinging yet also mental with the hypothesising and testing of actions. Parkour has clear similarities with the urban techniques of the ‘flâneur’ explorer whom aims to look at movement within a city without a sense of competition, preferring instead to simply enjoy what is there (Benjamin, 1999). For UCLU Parkour Society members, personal objectives for participating in parkour followed this aesthetic in that people seemed to want to participate in a journey (literally and metaphorically). Like the martial arts, parkour has many reasons for participation including health, harmony, defence, aggression and expression (Thibault, 2013:23). Some traceurs are attracted to the more flashy moves and elements often associated with ‘freerunning’ and acrobatics which differ greatly from the philosophies of original Yamakasi traceurs.
Variations in approach are not surprising as all groups and nationalities have assert different qualities relative to the vast and divergent populations that practice them. In general then, individual traceurs have unique philosophies in their practices. Subsequently, there is significant variation in outlooks and motivation for traceurs. Some well-known traceurs such as Sebastien Foucan are spiritual and holistic whilst others such as Kie Willis (See Willis, 2015) practice parkour for its physicality and reject philosophical connotations. Ultimately then, parkour offers a clear, verifiable means of self-improvement whether this is purely physical, purely mental or more commonly, a combination of the two.
Real Dangers:
Although my fieldwork gave me an overwhelming sense of positivity regarding parkour’s place in London, this would not be a complete or just analysis of parkour without discussing the potential and real downsides of the practice.
Firstly, as parkour takes place in the public sphere, it can upset locals that perceive parkour as a ‘misuse’ of space. Potential issues include trespassing, damage of property and the intimidating qualities of large groups of hooded young people (Armando, 2005).
There are also concerns over injuries in parkour as police and other governing forces fear that the risks of parkour are not worth the benefits (Rawe, 2008). Parkour also has some cases where neophytes have imitated their elder practitioners and attempted feats beyond their capabilities resulting in death (see Black & Knight, 2013). Whilst these cases are indeed tragic and detrimental to parkour’s culture, they are sombre examples of individuals deviating from the guidelines set by the Yamakasi group’s philosophy of progression and awareness.
Upset locals, injury and death are results that can only occur when sufficient care is not found in the practice. Furthermore, the perception of parkour projected by media is mutually based on a misunderstanding of these very same core values.
Edgework:
The aesthetics of parkour as an activity are fairly well known in the public eye, yet seldom understood. A common perception is that traceurs are ‘adrenaline junkies’, intent on self-destruction and death-defying acts such as leaping across rooftops or climbing impossibly tall walls. Certainly, danger and risk are essential parts of parkour, yet the popular media (See MTV’s Ultimate Parkour Challenge, 2009) gaming industry (Ubisoft's Assassins Creed, 2007), film industry (Casino Royale,2006) and parkour-based advertising campaigns on mainstream television (Toyota, 2006, Nike, 2009 & Coca-Cola, 2010) have blown their relative importance out of proportion. In actuality, parkour is a progressive and slow process in which the basics are worshipped.
A perception of chronic risk-taking can label parkour as what sociologists call ‘edgework’ (Lyng, 2005). Edgework is voluntary behaviour that is considered extreme or radical in relation to the general population. It incorporates a combination of emotional involvement and intense awareness of oneself with the execution of technical skills. As seen sports in other solitary sports such as trial cycling (Ranscombe, 2015) and solo-bouldering (Pottle, 2014) there is a blurring of boundaries between a human’s mind and the machinery that they operate as the action becomes routed in intuition and instinct instead of fear.
Performance of Fear:
As with other extreme sports, risk is always calculated in parkour. For my informants, danger was surely one of the attractive elements of the practice but it was not a reckless sort of danger. It was something to be practiced, stretched and harnessed3. The dualism of fear and joy becomes problematic in practice as the two become closely related. As access to real danger is severely limited in modern-day society, parkour offers a rare engagement with an emotion that is not found elsewhere.
Much like the Paleolithic hunter-gatherer, fear is mobilized and utilized. It works for the traceur, not against them. Like a snake shedding its skin to become an improved version of itself, the traceur completes or ‘breaks a jump’ (Edwardes, 2016) and will then gain confidence, moving on to more difficult moves. As asserted by Edwardes, ‘You fear things because some part of you knows you can do them, and may therefore attempt them’ (ibid.). Completing the act will thus extinguish that specific fear. This process involves cycles of ‘suffering to ecstasy’ (Le Breton, 2001:5) and back as the traceur comes to harness both themselves and their immediate environment’s potential.
Fear is therefore a form of eustress and is essential to parkour in that practitioners pay close attention to and even enjoy it (Lyng and Matthews, 2007). Le Breton claimed that ‘going right on to the end of the self-imposed task gives a legitimacy to life and provides a symbolic plank on which they can rely. Performance itself is of a secondary significance’ (Le Breton, 2000:1). This sense of ‘legitimacy’ could be attained from many aspects of parkour. The exact ’thing’ is somewhat insignificant, as all traceurs have different skills and challenges to conquer. Instead, it is rather about an attitude, having the ‘intent on creating futures which dare’ (Saville, 2008:893).
Parkour is a personal war, based on attainable progressions with implications beyond the individual level. However, before exploring this, it is necessary to determine the challenges of acquiring these techniques of the body.
1.2: The Learning Process:
Literature: Body Learning:
The work of Marcel Mauss has laid a strong foundation for this dissertation’s central investigation (Mauss, 1934). That is, the exploration of parkour as a bodily creation; an assemblage of ‘techniques of the body’ that are crucially inherited and heritable (ibid.) through specific (often informal) educational processes. Mauss’ intuitive understanding that ‘the body is man’s first and most natural instrument’ (ibid. 1934:75) is entirely in tune with how traceurs perceive their craft.
Parkour’s various actions; running, jumping and climbing are both ‘effective and traditional’ (Mauss, 1934:461) in that there is now a philosophy, a culture, an industry and a community built around parkour’s ideas. Thus, traceurs operate within structured ‘habituses’ (Bourdieu, 1977) that affirm certain beliefs and cultural ideologies. Parkour promotes activity in all human capacities in a way that is recursive and sustainable through social interaction and imitation. The work of Merleau-Ponty (1961) and Farnell in examining the body as a subjective site of ‘dynamically embodied action’, capable of significant semantic work (Farnell, 1999:341) asks exciting ideas about the traceur’s body. Farnell argues for the development of a conceptual framework that would raise the body as a profile for expression and knowing, equal to that of human speech (also see Jackson, 1989). A sense of ‘speechless speech’ is certainly present in parkour as few lessons are learned through direct verbal instruction.
Instead, learning occurs through watching, internalising and expressing in a continuous loop of attempt and feedback. A Maussian analysis of parkour reveals that individuals are setting out to organise and educate themselves in ways which challenge and strengthen themselves and the larger community of athletes. Parkour is about creating techniques for problems which don't exist for those that do not see them. As discussed later with ‘parkour vision’, the fence, rail or brick wall is not an obstacle for the uninitiated, it is just another observable, yet in-actionable object of modern society. Parkour therefore opens up traceurs to new challenges and engagements that will build the practitioner’s character and strength. It is now necessary to ascertain how these techniques are heritable in society.
Primary Means of Education: Experiential Learning:
“What matters is the conversation between my body and my movement. If I can gain a sense of safety, I can
move on to more powerful, more vigorous and more sustained forms of movement.”
The first and most important step in acquiring the set of techniques that are aesthetically grouped as parkour is a kinesthetic trial and error process involving basic movements. Essential to parkour are the foundational six basic elements which include running, jumping, climbing, balance,
stealth and proprioception (Edwardes, 2009). Additionally, skills such as rolling, swinging, shimmying, acrobatics and gymnastics add further variety to the traceur’s potential movement palette. These exercises must be combined together to form graceful movement that is both functional and aesthetic. Parkour pedagogy therefore involves a deep and personal immersion into these activities. This primacy of the body is the cornerstone of ‘phenomenology’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1962) in which the body is central and irreducible to all perception. As ‘the skin is the point of contact between the person and the world’ (Strathern, 1979:250), a certain sensitivity to the body’s positioning and circumstance in space is essential. This was particularly evident when balancing and jumping on metal beams during training as my visual, vestibular and musculature system were challenged immensely.
In parkour sessions, we would practice a technically sound landing to a jump. In doing so, the jumper (and others) listen for unnecessary sound. This noise signifies inefficiency of technique. Additionally, drills such as closing your eyes whilst moving forces other senses to develop alongside entire body coordination. These processes involve an attunement of the body and mind to the external environment in which it inhabits. For example, the body learns the consequences of
running too fast in rain and the joy of finding grippy surfaces. The neophyte therefore has a sequence of proficiency to go through in parkour. Following initial exposure, these can be chronologically classified as learning, mastery and play. Parkour, like any other physical pursuit involves a general progression whereby difficulty increases through a variety of variables. These may include strength, endurance, body awareness, mentality or any other skills that can be improved over time.
In fieldwork sessions, there was a persistent maintenance of the principle that progression takes time and parkour cannot and should not be rushed as this will lead to de-motivation and injury. For example, on a few separate occasions, I was advised to be less-reckless with a certain jump due to my poor landing technique. Often, neophyte traceurs would deny their abilities before trying by saying ‘I can’t do that!’ only to master the movement within 10 minutes and move onto a more challenging stimulus saying ‘that was easy!’ However, as voiced by David Belle, ‘once is never’ (Belle, 2009:59) and only through repetition can proper learning occur. Sound technique must be reproducible at any level, in any space, otherwise, the principles of progression do not work (e.g. increasing jumping distance) and injury will occur. Leadership within the group, therefore, comes from those with experience (coaches and other accomplished traceurs) as they have conquered many of the obstacles (literally and figuratively) that beginners will encounter.
Generalist Training:
Although mastery of a particular move or location is desirable in parkour, most of the traceurs I played with realised that perfection of one element of the craft was not the end goal.
Instead, informants continuously operated with a beginner mindset keeping a fresh, amorphous approach to their practice. Debord’s ‘dérive’ approach (Debord, 1956) shares a resemblance with parkour in that sessions are often largely unstructured and experimental as they are led by the aesthetics and structures in which the person finds themselves. Therefore, the geography of the city has a role in determining what moves are practiced. Essentially, parkour’s ‘generalist’ inclination places it within a larger framework of ‘movement practices’ (See: Portal, 2016) which aim to avoid specialisation in favour of focusing on elemental human movement in all its realisations.
Secondary Means of Education:
Various authors have written ‘how-to’ guides for parkour. For example Edwardes (2009) offers instructive guidance of the techniques of parkour, whilst Thibault (2013) takes a more philosophical approach. The efficacy of these books seems to be largely limited to beginners as real education is found through practice and the interaction of bodies in space.
However, the internet is a particularly versatile and valuable addition for the traceur. For example, all UCLU Parkour Society events (including training sessions, jams, other sports and socials) were organised on a Facebook page and a group. Members are highly active online as ‘continuous style’ parkour videos are shared for inspiration, technique is taught and issues such as weather are discussed. The group’s chairman would create ‘events’ complete with location, timing and travel information which we would then click attending or not attending.
This interactive usage of Facebook proved to be a highly positive environment for cultivating relationships (See Miller, 2011) and enabling the organisation of such a large group (243 members at the time of writing). The importance of social media is also shown in other parkour ethnographies (Thorpe & Ahmed, 2015) where transnational communities become possible, regardless of geography, race, language or circumstance. This is a ‘death of distance’ (Broadbent, 2012:128) as the parkour community obtains a 'tenuous unity as a distributed object’ (Gell, 1997:221), a global phenomenon.
For example, blogs, Facebook and Youtube pages such as ‘Flow’, ‘Urban Freeflow’ and ‘Parkour Generations’ bring together individuals and cultivate interest in the practice. Online populations exert a significant authority (Kidder, 2012) as they function as the ‘means by which parkour’s evolving practices are codified and explained’ (Kidder, 2012:241). Parkour is therefore both a solitary and a group practice in which these basic units are ‘alone together’ on a global scale, emergently organised through the internet (Turkle, 2013).
The internet is also used by traceurs in the form of Google Maps to expand their knowledge of spaces with potential (See Kidder, 2012 and Appendices). Therefore, the internet is valuable to the traceur in all stages of growth. From beginner cat pass leaps videos and local meet-ups to attaining a sponsorship with a viral parkour video, the internet and its communities are irreplaceably part of parkour culture.
Gym Parkour:
Although parkour evolved outdoors, specialist gyms are growing in popularity. These gyms are unique in that the equipment is fully modular. Blocks, beams (scaffolding) and walls can all be reconfigured, allowing new possibilities and the incremental progression from simple to complex moves. One such gym is London’s ‘Chainstore Gym and Parkour Academy’ which is frequented by the UCLU society at least twice an academic term for sessions lasting around 4 hours.
In some ways the Chainstore is similar to more mainstream fitness gyms; the sale of protein shakes, safety disclaimers and a conventional weightlifting section. However, the gym also occupies a different format with no locks on lockers (which shows significant trust) and minimal guidance from staff. The ‘softer’ approach of indoor parkour (and outdoor ‘parkour playparks’) lets traceurs practice moves without the same risks as outside. Rubber is after all, much more pliable than concrete. This environment also let parents feel more comfortable about letting their children (I observed 6-8-year-olds) ‘play parkour’ and explore the Chainstore’s capacities. These facilities also avoid London’s temperamental weather. Surfaces were never slippy and we had full access to amenities such as sinks, toilets and food. As this is a predictable and standardised environment, the traceur could practice identical repetitions of singular movements instead of entire sequences (which is normally the focus of parkour).
Traceurs understand that continuous practice of the foundations will later allow the end goal; that of improvisation and play. Parkour gyms have also split the community as experienced traceurs have expressed worries about its qualities. Put succinctly, ‘there is a massive difference between adapting to your environment and adapting the environment to you’ (Edwardes, 2015: quoted by Vigroux). A soft environment will then develop a softer athlete. In Finland, traceurs worry about the ‘fake feeling of safety for beginners’ (Ameel & Tani, 2012b:27) found in these gyms.
The parkour gym therefore prevents the full development of ‘body armour’ (Vigroux in Angel, J. 2011:128) which strengthens the body, protecting it from impacts and weakness. Whilst controversial in some ways, the parkour gym is a key factor in the inevitable commercialisation of parkour and will likely further increase in usage. Ultimately though, I feel that the spiritual and practical home of parkour will always be found outdoors.
1.3 Mastery, Flow and Ludic Play:
For the traceur, parkour is an activity of everyday significance. It is relevant and indistinguishable from how they move in and around the urban spaces around them. Parkour is therefore distinct from physical cultures such as commercial gyms that have spatiotemporal, membership-based restraints, determining when and how people move in their environment.
Parkour also attempts to differentiate itself from dance as much as possible in that it rejects dance’s necessity to ‘operate according to socio-cultural conventions and aesthetic systems’ (Kaeppler, 2000:116). The experienced traceur has developed sense of ‘parkour vision’ (Saville, 2008) in that they can see ‘moves’ that would not be visible to a non-traceur. They are able to realise this potential due to a diverse understanding of the structures that their bodies operate in. However, the ‘parkour body’ (ibid: 893) is never finished as the learning never stops. This cycle is instead self-propagating as new skills and capacities lead to a continuous development of the body and mind. To recapitulate, the end goal of the traceur’s education is the state of ludic play. This is an embodied autotelic ‘non-narrative approach’ (Taleb, 2012:428) which firmly prioritises reflexivity and a widening of what is possible within modernity’s emphasis on conformity. Traceurs therefore can be seen as emergent subjectivities, capable of environmental autonomy through the process of play.
Flow:
The phenomenon of ‘flow’ (Csikszentmihalyi, 1990) is often reported in parkour (Atkinson, 2009). This is perhaps not surprising due to the level of attention and embodied awareness that must be utilised. Flow is where ‘one becomes totally absorbed in what one is doing, to the exclusion of all other thoughts and emotions’ (Jackson & Csikszentmihalyi, 1999). Therefore, when a traceur is in flow or ‘peak experience’ (Maslow, 1970), movement has mindful and meditative properties which allows the relaxation and development of the self. The ‘flow state’ also navigates around the arduousness of learning. As scientists know, when activities are repetitive and un-engaging willpower decreases as a limited resource over time (Inzlicht et al. 2014). Play and flow are then extremely effective means of expression, joy and education. Thus, parkour offers a means of expression that requires only a functioning body.
“Play should not be segregated, it is an essential part of all life”
Play occurs when the ‘childhood spirit takes flight’ (Thibault, 2013:38) in self-entertaining expression. The rules (how to jump, roll and climb) are only learnt as a primer for these higher-order actions. As articulated by one of the UCLU parkour and movement coaches, when a person develops his bases; fitness, mobility, strength, structure, they attain ‘free-moves’ (Archway) which require very little effort to learn and integrate. These moves are free because a fully prepared athlete is ready for all eventualities.
In the words of Stephane Vigroux ‘you still have to build strong foundations and solid basics. But once you build that potential and tools you can enjoy the freedom of moving and adapting to any space.’ (Vigroux, Facebook, 2015). The actor will then draw indeterminable and unpredictable lines (Ingold, 2007) with their body in the environment as they move across, around, over and under the immediate materials. Freedom is therefore the result of a mastery of the structures and primal patterns of movement. Next, it is necessary to address the location in which this ‘parkour body’ (Saville, 2008:893) takes form; the modern metropolitan city of London.
2. Urban Bricolage (London)
2.1 Relegated Locations:
To understand the kind of locations that parkour takes place in, I attended sessions in many different areas of London. These sessions took place in (chronological order from first visit) Vauxhall, Archway, Canada Water, Trinity Buoy Wharf (The Parkour Chainstore) and Kings Cross. The most common site was Archway due to its properties; two distinct areas that were suitable for basic and advanced parkour skills. Locations were chosen due to their interesting urban topography (albeit not in a conventional sense), size (they had to be large enough space to accommodate up to 40 people), relatively low population density, proximity to a tube station and other factors such as cover from rain.
Often, the locations were changed at the last moment due to the group size or if the chairman wanted us to learn a particular skill. Fulfilling this set of criteria led to most of the sessions taking place in urban spots, devoid of public attention (with some notable exceptions like skateboarding) or recent development. Common objects of interest in these areas included walls, the floor, curbs, stairs, railing, pipes, trees, benches and lampposts. To me, it seemed that these ‘dead public spaces’ (Sennett, 1978:15) were brought back to life through the animacy, creativity and frenetic movements of the group.
These were areas that were connected to mainstream cities yet also ‘dislocated from an everyday experience of it’ (Borden, 2001), forgotten tributaries that lead people into more populous, clean and commercial areas.
Community Interactions:
Due to parkour’s physicality and public location, members of the public frequently came across the training sessions. Attitudes of those passing by or watching were largely positive with smiles and easygoing comments like ‘don’t break anything!’ being common. This reception occurred despite parkour’s common presence in ‘break in’ robbery type films (Breaking and Entering, 2006; Run, 2013 & Tracers, 2015). I believe this positive reaction was due to the care that traceurs took to not be a negative influence (net minus) on the communities that house their practice. For example, I never saw traceurs littering, we moved when asked (or even before) and were very careful if children are playing nearby. Parkour even has global campaigns for the cleaning up of communities (Ameel & Tani, 2012b) such as the annual ’Leave No Trace Initiative’
by Andy ‘Animus’ Tran (americanparkour.com, 2008). This initiative shows that parkour recognizes a certain symbiosis; if the environment is clean and safe, it can serve those that use it better. Traceurs therefore coincide within a nexus of social and material relationships including the public, waste services, skaters, bikers, runners and the homeless. All of the aforementioned groups benefit from a hospitable environment.
Members of the public were often initially confused as to why grown adults would want to behave or play like children. Parkour is not ‘considered normal practice’ (Angel, J. 2011:180). This confusion was often transformed into curiosity if the visitors stood and watched, as they could then make sense out of the chaos. For example, they might observe formal coaching or the natural progressions of movement from simple to complex. Young children were particularly drawn to parkour, perhaps due to its exciting aesthetic or alternatively, because they recognised that play was occurring. There was a general opinion that the public were happy that these redundant spaces were being enjoyed. After all, how often are mundane concrete blocks joyfully appreciated. Overall, as long as participants were not hurting themselves, scaring anyone or causing damage, the pubic were full of intrigue, acceptance and joy at our activities.
Police and Independent Security Interactions:
The reception from authorities such as the police and private security guards had a markedly different tone. For example, on various occasions, we were moved away from areas where no visible harm was taking place. It seemed that parkour is sometimes viewed as a kind of ‘gateway drug’ in which a progression to rebellious criminal activity was possible or even likely.
Security guards in particular saw no reason to negotiate or mediate a mutual decision in terms of proper use. They were more ‘territorial’ (Ameel & Tani, 2012b), preferring to stop ‘potential’ trouble instead of ascertaining what kind of ‘play’ (harmful or harmless) would be taking place. Understandably, security guards are privately hired to protect private interests and found themselves to be partially responsible for the ‘potential danger’ that traceurs place themselves in.
With parkour, there is always a conflict of usage as it occurs in environments that are often ambiguously semipublic. Like football and its ‘No Ball Game’ signs (Malone, 2007:78), ‘No Climbing’ signs are now appearing across London alongside the use of anti-climb paints (Vauxhall). Although all of the sessions I attended were legal practices, the dance between legality and illegality is a recurring theme that the practitioner must be aware of to avoid trouble and not stain the reputation (and subsequently halt its progress) of parkour as a global influence.
Anywhere Practice: The Concrete Relationship:
“Two hundred years of American technology unwittingly created a massive cement playground of unlimited
potential. But it was in the minds of 11 year olds that could see that potential”
Although sports such as skateboarding (Canada Water) and basketball (Archway) take place in similar locations, parkour is largely non-judgmental of specific terrains. Whilst there are undoubtedly favourite spots in London (outside the IMAX cinema on Southbank and the late ‘Vauxhall walls’), any space can be used provided the group or individual has sufficient motivations, experience and vision. Because of this, parkour is ‘antifragile’ (Taleb, 2012) as there is expanding production of habitat (cities), potential users (youth) and motivation (idle youth).
Because of this, parkour can thrive anywhere that modernity does. Crucial to this is an acceptance of the often vilified (and simultaneously praised) substance of modernity, concrete. This 'technique of poverty' (Forty, 2012:40) is embraced by the traceur as a welcome canvas for parkour expression.
Concrete has excellent qualities for parkour; it is sturdy, grippy and is fairly good at not picking up footmarks. A Douglasian analysis proposes that ‘dirt’ or ‘ugly’ things are not intrinsically these qualities. Instead, things are determined by humans. With parkour, urban locations are not ‘matter out of place’ (Douglas, 1966:36) but matter in place. Concrete’s ease, quickness and mutability offered much for a modernist renewal of architecture. Just as there is no need for specialists with cement, parkour shares these characteristics. Parkour is a means of solving the problem of travel in any location. Both parkour and concrete are things that are composed of pre-modern elements yet assembled in modernity. Just as ‘one man with a cement mixer and a wheelbarrow can produce passably modern structures’ (Forty, 2012:28), one traceur with a parkour video can imitate the greats of parkour instantaneously. Perhaps parkour’s role in modernity involves bringing beautiful aesthetics back into deficient areas, structures built in the style of post-world-war-two brutalism; structures built for a purpose.
Comparative Urban Practices:
Parkour is minimalistic in that it requires nothing but a body capable of movement, something that cannot be attributed to practices such as skateboarding (Ameel & Tani, 2012a:166-167) or ‘urban golf’ (Florian et al. 2010). Although, like parkour, skateboarding, breakdancing and even BMXing share a utility of creatively appropriating the bare and functional architecture of post war communities such as London (Borden, 2001). This decision of traceurs to not use external equipment such as gloves is for enhanced tactile feedback but has the ultimate effect of making the practice incredibly accessible for peoples of all incomes and locations. It is an activity that requires only the permission (or inaction) of society to prevent it from occurring5. Parallels can of course be drawn here with graffiti as both parkour and graffiti involve a ‘process of objectification’ (Dryden, 2001:281) and a temporal redevelopment of ‘the liminal exteriors of society’ (Angel, J. 2014:178)6. These urban practices allow the projection of specific agencies and aesthetics (Schacter, 2008) onto the urban textiles. As with graffiti, ‘acceptable action’ regarding use of architecture is relative to the
individual and is often juxtaposed with those in formal authority. Ironically, this abandonment of equipment has led to companies designing products such as parkour shoes and clothes. However, graffiti is certainly far more residual, parkour should not leave marks on the environment.
The visionary notion of the ‘architectural body’ connects parkour to the locations it is practiced in (Gins & Arakawa, 2002). Buildings cannot be separated from the human bodies that inhabit them as they creatively define each other. Therefore we have ‘organism-person-environments’ which are entirely mixed in a nexus of relations (ibid: 2). Gins and Arawaka, therefore, saw that ‘higher human functions’ were the same as bodily sensation in their origin. The body and the environment are then closer to a form of constant symbiosis than domination. It is now necessary to determine the means by which such creativity is harnessed by the traceur.
2.2 Parkour Vision and Bricolage:
“Buildings are building blocks for the open-minded
”
Parkour Vision
Seeing potential in parkour is attained through the refinement of ‘parkour vision’ (Brown, 2007) and the perception of a ‘plasticity of place’ (Saville, 2008:911) in the immediate environments. Nolan’s analysis of skateboarding concluded that adults see space in terms of consumption whereas children see space in terms of modification and remodelling (Nolan, 2003). Parkour therefore engages in a ‘child-like open enquiry’ (Angel, J 2011:167). A bin or bench is offered another utility by the traceur, one of ‘latent possibilities’ (Ameel & Tani, 2012a:171) and a widened tangibility. In an extension of de Certeau’s ‘the act of walking is to urban systems what the speech act is to language or to the statements uttered’ (de Certeau 1984:97-98) in parkour, movements are found within an overarching realm of relative potential. If the environment is conducive to movement (e.g. dry) the traceur will move more whilst if it is wet and windy, even simple techniques can become highly difficult.
Therefore this ‘vision’ is not so much an additive skill, rather, normal people are deficient or uninterested in their capacity to see past orderly urban movement. Parkour involves the search for unconventional ‘optionality’ where it is not commonly found (Taleb, 2012:428). It is a phenomenon that imbues ‘topophilia’ (Tuan, 1974), an emotional bond with the environment. In this, unconventional ‘places’ are loaded with personal emotions, connections and memories (Tuan, 1977). Similarly, Heidegger’s notion of ‘dwelling’ (Heiddegger, 1977) as traceurs reside and experience a sense of belonging or familiarity, at least temporarily, with the locations they practice in. Consequentially, they can see and do much more in spaces that are considered restrictive and void of possibility for the general population.
Defying Striations:
These urban practices deny the agency and will (See Gieryn, 2002) of city planners and their structures. In this, the ‘striations’ of the urban grid (space instituted by state apparatus) (Deleuze & Guittari, 1987:474) become loosened by traceurs. Parkour’s qualities of mobility (speed, elegance and effortlessness) prove to be antithetical to the cities symbols and linguistics of immobility (‘stop’ signs, ‘wait’ signs and traffic jams). The traceur is determined to be undetermined.
For example, in my fieldwork, traceurs would train quadrupedally on steps designer for bipedalism or repurpose the sitting function of benches, using them as launch-pads for jumping, flow sequences. Parkour therefore rejects the central motives of city planning which include aims to ‘restrict speed, regulate circulation, relativize movement, and measure in detail the relative movements of subjects and objects’ (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987:386). Instead, the function of things like walls are re-negotiated from that of safety or predetermined direction to an obstacle that must be overcome. This is a refusal to yield to ‘tight spaces’ (Franck & Stevens, 2007), environments that tolerate a limited, pre-determined, physical vocabulary and usage. The traceur’s ‘loosened spaces’ are the opposite, operating ’contrary to the original, intended or expected use’ (Ameel & Tani, 2012b:19). Therefore the city, which is traditionally dominated by mental objectivism, calculation and intellectual coping strategies (Simmel, 1971 [1903]) is instead approached with an emotional and spontaneous manner as traceurs maintain their ‘independence’ (ibid:324) from urbanism.
Simmel’s depiction of the city also shows that parkour antithetically works to create qualitative distinctions where typically, only quantified actions occur. Parkour is an abandonment of Simmel’s ‘metropolitan mentalities’ (ibid.) which include the intellectualisation, the ‘blasé’ attitude, reservedness and the tightly regulated notion of individual distinction. Therefore in parkour, the actor is simply playing with material forms that are limitless in their interactive and physical dialogue.
Bricolage:
To summarise thus far, parkour creatively uses spaces and materials that few people use in unconventional areas of the city. It therefore shares many qualities with arts such as street graffiti or children ‘making dens’ (Malone, 2007:78), practices that use resources disparate objects. Traceurs can therefore be typified as ‘bricoleurs’ (Lévi-Strauss, 1962) or 'effectual situationists’ (Debord, 1994) in that they ‘make do with whatever material is at hand to achieve a given end’ (Tilley, 1991:96). This was clear in my fieldwork as exercises arose from the materials that we found, regardless of their apparent condition or visual appeal. Specific movements could not be forced if the environment did not hold the materials that were needed. Instead, the traceur must be adaptive, having ‘operational or multifunctional use in relation to different situations' (Lévi-Strauss, 1962:17-18). Lévi-Strauss’s original use of the term ‘bricoleurs’ was for understanding the construction of myth out of cultural fragments of the past. Traceurs enact this same technique with the material world around them.
These skills of vision and bricolage allow parkour to convert urban wastage (such as derelict walls) or what Thompson would call ‘rubbish’ into ‘transient’ or even ‘durable’ material (Thompson, 1979). Crucially though, the bricoleur mindset is realized through the autonomy and actions of ‘parkour play’. Without play, creativity would have no means of appearing, social relations would likely be less meaningful and parkour would hold less future potential as a value-creating activity. This chapter has suggested the means in which traceurs comprehend and engage with the environment that nurtures parkour. Next, I will widen my focus from the streets of London to the transnational realities of modern parkour.
3. Parkour: Our-Park (Global Potential)
3.1 Parkour Unity:
“In communities where residents presume the future to hold hardship, socio-economic and political
constraints, parkour is an activity that presents possibilities for even greater change.
”
Potential:
Having conceptualised parkour at the individual and city level, the wider societal and political implications of the practice must now be addressed. A 12-year-old boy in Karen Malone’s study of child space and perception describes his community with ‘cos it’s so built up, there’s not much to do’ (Malone, 2007:78). Parkour offers ‘something to do’, an alternative to other young urban exploits; drug abuse, gangs, violence and laziness (Thibault, 2013) which are detrimental at the personal and community level. As argued by Brown in the quote above, parkour is particularly well-equipped to help less well-off communities circumnavigate structural social institutions of exclusion (Harrington, 1962). Parkour’s inclusive qualities (it is free and can be practiced anywhere) can develop skills that help to reverse ‘cultures of poverty’ (Lewis in Moynihan, 1969) in which children have learnt techniques and values that in turn perpetuate their own circumstances.
Parkour’s social skills include the refinement of a ‘culture of effort’ (Thibault, 2013:51) compassion, interdependence, creativity and a constant maintenance of optionality. Studies also suggest that traceurs develop more core-skills such as leadership and resolve compared to that of gymnasts (Cazenave, 2007)7. These are all features that create strong and able members of society.
Parkour has also been shown to promote healthy social interaction in a Westminster school (Grabowski & Thomsen, 2015) and the bringing together of conflicted ideologies and peoples in Italy (De Martini Ugolotti, 2015) Gaza (Thorpe & Ahmed, 2015) and Iraq (Russell & Breur, 2015).
As suggested in earlier chapters, parkour can occur anywhere. These places are hugely different in geographical terms yet they all have the essential ingredients for parkour culture; buildings and enthusiasm. These are peoples with little in common, yet they are forming heterogeneous collectivities (Guss, 2011:73) through their common pursuits in parkour. These examples show that parkour serves to obfuscate various forms of physical, psychological, economic and historical tension that exist prior to the practices introduction and adoption. In my own fieldwork, schoolchildren would stand and watch what we were doing with curiosity. Should this curiosity convert into action and participation in parkour, youths could benefit from a new sense of direction and purpose, like those of the original Yamakasi group. Parkour is therefore a free collaborative tool for betterment, development of youth agency, self-affirmation and social improvement.
3.2 Play For Health:
Neurological, Social & Learning Benefits:
“Energy is contagious, catch it, and pass it on”
Parkour’s key ingredient, play, has many benefits in terms of improving the function of the brain, psychology and education of children. For example, studies have shown that having regular breaks (involving play and movement) correlates with stronger academic achievement (Stevenson & Lee, 1990). This is seen in Japanese and Chinese students (in contrast with American students) that have short breaks every fifty minutes (ibid.). Other studies suggest that play is a form of experimentation that yields significantly to the learning process. For example, having given two different groups of children either divergent (blocks) or convergent (puzzles) materials to play with, the first group proved to be more creative and accurate in their answers when given a test (Pepler & Ross, 1981). This study has obvious parallels to parkour where the traceur converts convergent ‘striated’ environments (Deleuze & Guittari, 1987:474) into divergent materials which then have exponentially more potential.
Another study suggests that humans may have a special sensitivity to forms of play which stimulate social cognition (Bjorklund & Brown, 1998). Additionally, play, physical activity and the subsequent release of endorphins is a neglected focus of physical health for the treatment of conditions such as depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, self-esteem and cognitive function (Callaghan, 2004). As mentioned in chapter one, parkour’s intense relationship with flow (Csikszentmihalyi, 1990) is an extremely effective mind state for fast learning. In summary, the effects of the diverse, impulsive and energetic movements found in parkour have many serious mental benefits.
Physical Benefits:
Play is also crucial with developing good physical health in children and adults. For example, the benefits of letting children engage in ‘risky play’ outweigh more traditional concerns over child safety and injury (Brussoni et al. 2015). Researchers have also found ‘materials that can be manipulated by the children (e.g., wood, crates), and the freedom to engage in activities of their choosing influenced play affordances, children’s interest in playing there, and the play spaces value in health promotion’ (ibid: 6447). Therefore, freedom of movement confers greater interest in ones activities and therefore a cycle of increasing complexity will occur.
Play also involves movement of the body that works the cardiovascular system muscles, tendons, ligaments and other bodily systems mitigating the accruing damage that occur from modern dangers such as prolonged periods of sitting (Beddhu et al. 2015). Certain techniques in parkour such as the drop landing have proved to be more effective in dissipating ground forces (and safer) than the traditional techniques taught in say, the military or sports industries (Puddle & Maulder, 2013). The myriad of techniques in parkour may be of great use to other areas of society such as firefighting, police and security. For example, London’s own ‘Parkour Generations’, have ‘Tactical’ services which test the security of buildings and coach navigation in urban terrains. It is clear that whilst parkour inevitably has injuries (Derakhshan et al. 2014; Mclean & Pike, 2006)8 the practice also has diverse applications in many professions outside the world of the traceur and can aid society in terms of health, function and efficiency.
Political Parkour
“What the state can do is, over decades, over centuries, entrench people’s identities, organise their fears,
organise their hopes”
Free Inquiry:
Although not normally explicitly or verbally political, parkour engages in a kind of ‘soft politics’ or ‘urban activism’ (Mould, 2015). Parkour involves creating one’s own citizenship, which includes access to all locations of the city (ibid.). Atkinson typifies this relationship, describing traceurs as ‘late modern flâneurs, who typically express disdain for suffocatingly organized, scripted, contained, authoritarian, competitive, and consumer-based cultural experiences and spaces’ (Atkinson, 2009:11). Noam Chomsky states that there is a universal human desire for creative, free inquiry which is repressed by modern society and its bureaucracy (Chomsky in Foucault & Rabinow, 1991:5). Parkour realises this inquiry as an opposition to inertia as traceurs see a capacity for wilderness in all materials, raw or determined. Foucault claims that architecture enacts a form of political power on residents (Foucault, 1982:777) but as suggested by Angel, parkour ‘serves to include and connect participants to the political technology of architecture’ (Angel, J. 2011:149) through interactional, deliberate and conscious movements of the body. As more people move to big cities, humans become increasingly removed from nature and consequentially more sedentary (e.g. in Sub-Saharan Africa: Assah et al. 2011).
The current solution for this alienation is places such as fitness gyms, ‘disciplining institutions’ (Foucault, 1995) that paradoxically offer little real correlation to the ancestrally functional human body. Although in these places the body may be ‘awakened to its nature’ (Sassatelli, 2015:242), this nature is robotic and repetitive. On the other hand, parkour’s ‘urban jungle’ is uncompromising, a visceral reflection of city life that builds autonomous, tough and robust athletes. In summary, parkour allows the traceur the ability to choose and organize their own fears, circumnavigating the persuasions of the state.
Alternative Path:
Parkour offers an alternative path, one that utilises the urban ‘nature’ of the city alongside undeniable freedom of expression. Parkour also involves the mobility of Thompson’s categories (durable, transient and rubbish) which result in a ‘continuous realignment of power and status’ (Thompson, 1979:110). Therefore, although not overtly political, parkour offers an open critique of society in a raw, physical manner. Creative arts impact communities in many ways, from potential economic revival (Bryan, 1998) to empowering or educating poor people to improve their circumstances (Guetzkow, 2002) or health (Angus, 1999).
As noted by Borden (2001), the marginal status of socio-spatial subcultures such as parkour allows them the right and means to critique their environment. The traceur therefore recognizes the liminal and relegated spaces of society, finding ‘energy in its margins and unstructured areas’ (Douglas, 1966:141) and catharsis in its potential. Thus, what parkour can do is liberate people to play with the (normally claustrophobic) structures that surround them. This is not an additional practice, nothing is added to people’s lives except one crucial element; permission to play. In summary, parkour rejects and affirms certain ideologies that have clear political implications. These include the right for public access, a rejection of forms of privatization and the need for sustainable and free spaces in the city. Lastly, traceurs refuse to succumb to the structural dogmas or striated spaces ‘that closes a surface, divides it up at determinable intervals’ (Deleuze & Guittari, 1987:481) that determine the passages of flow in everyday city life.
4. Conclusion: What Does Parkour Do?
“Parkour is not simply a collection of movement techniques and training methods: it’s a concept, an idea, a
way of thinking and being. It’s an art of living.”
Summary of Findings:
This thesis originally set out to study the physical and mental techniques of parkour on a local level. However, upon reviewing the literature and engaging in the community, the implications of parkour’s philosophy clearly operate on a more fundamental level; that of a global phenomenon.
What I have attempted to do is ascertain and theoretically develop ideas that are experienced by the everyday traceur. I began with an analysis of the qualities and techniques that traceurs learn as they progress in parkour from beginner to experienced. I then located parkour within the framework of the modern, urban city. Finally, the societal and political impacts of the practice were addressed.
Several themes of notable interest have been developed over the duration of this thesis. The progression from technique and structure to that of free, flowing and ludic play has been of critical
importance. Most important however is the ingredient of ludic play which allows parkour to be so effective and affective in all areas, from the local to the global. Parkour therefore signifies the best of adult and child-like qualities, it is a relentlessly playful ‘art of living’ (Thibault, 2013:13) that is practical and self-affirming. This practice offers an alternative, a philosophy, a community that is set on circumventing the mundane routes of passage that have been formatted into urban places. It gives permission for smoothness and freedom where hardness and conformity rule. Therefore freedom is available to anyone that has the mind of a bricoleur, the eyes of a traceur and the body of an animal. This research has found that parkour is a creative and cultural asset to any city that is willing to nurture it.
The Future of Parkour?
Whilst still a fledgling practice, parkour has certain characteristics that make it invaluable to those who practice it. It is antithetical too much of modern life in that parkour cannot be bought, obtained or dominated. As part of a general movement towards certain forms of awareness; mindfulness, meditation and health (mental and physical) (Sykes Wylie, 2015) parkour, and other self-focused practices such as yoga will likely increase in global popularity. After all, it is economically ‘free’ things that create freedom. Parkour occurs in spaces that are unappreciated and imbues them with activity in a way that is place or ‘topophilia’ making. It is the untapped urban resources that holds the key to Parkour’s future success. With a clear global increase in urban sprawl, parkour, alongside graffiti and other urban exploits can creatively engage populations ‘in a planet of cities’ (ibid:104) that do not have the same access to green spaces that we currently enjoy.
These findings are important because the world will look increasingly like the ideal materials of parkour. It is reasonable to assume that in the future,e parkour will be increasingly influential on institutions and systems such as education, youth projects, sports programs, the military, law and emergency services (Thibault, 2013:12). Therefore, the unfolding of parkour is indefinitely linked with the cities, policies and philosophies of the future. Specifically, the ‘evolving flux of individuals’ (Angel, 2011:238) will shape the parkour that the world will know in ten, fifty and one hundred years.
Research Recommendations:
Future ‘physical culture’ studies will have to be increasingly reliant on the ever-changing realities of globalisation and inter-cultural exchange. Practitioners of parkour will never be isolated, the internet has perforated all aspects of its inception, day to day realities and future. Similarly, researchers cannot study urban practices without a sound understanding of the emergent spaces and relationships that cities subsist of. Ture isolation is a dead concept just as creativity is now a thing of the collective, the connected and the social (Johnson, 2011). To glimpse the inner workings of parkour is to learn about how people, bodies and societies organise themselves in a world of cultural cross-contamination. Essentially then, parkour is what happens when people give themselves permission to flow without reason or cause. The resulting aesthetic can be crude, dangerous and painful, yet also beautiful and invigorating. Above all though, I believe that parkour’s culture has the much-needed mobility that can help fix the most broken, relegated areas of our urban metropolises.
