My twitter feed regularly sends me images of three artists, without me ever having followed those sources. Riddle me that! I like two of them very much (Max Ernst and Varo Remedios,) but had never heard of the third one, Ivan Shishkin (1832-1898). He was a Russian Realist (in contrast to the other two surrealists,) and I now recall I included one of his paintings in a recent blog about people wandering through landscapes. But that’s it.

Pine on sand # Heuer #photography

In any case, looking at Shishkin’s landscapes, painted around the area of St. Petersburg and elsewhere in Russia, I was struck how many of them resided in variations in my photographic archives, without ever having set foot into Russia. The scenes were photographed in Europe and North America. The fact that similarities can be salient, just as dissimilarities can, seemed noteworthy in light of the fact that I know so many people who are currently moving away or have moved away from places they have called home for years. Not everything will be unfamiliar!

Stone in the forest # Heuer #photography

For the younger ones, the reasons for moving have to do with increased flexibility of the workplace, allowing to do your job long distance. For those I am most familiar with, a continual change of location implies mostly excitement, and has also been the norm between college, grad school, post docs and so on. Relocation of us older folks is a different thing – often done to be closer to family, to be of mutual support, sometimes done to find environments easier on an aging body or to escape into (visions of) tranquility. Not an entirely new phenomenon, if you think of the many East Coast “snowbirds” who annually tracked to Florida in the winter from the Northern states (again, I am aware it is the privilege of a certain class.)

Oaks # Heuer #photography

You give up a few things when you move. Your familiarity with the lay-out of your city and environs, your ease of finding your way, your knowledge of where to find things (in shops or nature,) not to mention your doctors, dentists, and last but not least the friends who remained (this latter one is for older people often a reason to move rather than to stay – people around you are no longer.) And your sense of place, your attachment to and pride in the place you call home, will be disturbed, although, as we will see, it can be reestablished on the other end with remarkable fluency.

Mounds # Heuer #photography

There is a whole research enterprise in various scientific disciplines that explores the (dis)advantages of a sense of place that comes mostly from having lived somewhere for a long time, if not all of your life. (I got my information here and here.) Definitions vary as do approaches, it can be confounding to try and get a grasp of it.

For psychologists, it is the experience of a person in a particular setting, feelings and thoughts included. In geography, it’s called topophilia, the affective bond between people and place or setting. For historians it is a sense of place that we ourselves create in the course of time. It is the result of habit or custom, reinforced by what might be called a sense of recurring events. For anthropologists, place attachment is more than an emotional and cognitive experience, it includes cultural beliefs and practices that link people to place, a symbolic element tying us to shared history.

The tree in the field # Heuer #photography

Let’s stick with the psychology: the feelings and thoughts about where you live. They can be influenced by numerous bonds. There is the biographical tie, you were born here or lived here for a long time. The bond can be based on spiritual relationships, you feel a sense of belonging within your people’s history, for example. You can be tied to a place for ideological reasons (let’s skip that…) or due to an accepted narrative (creation myths, stories of origin.) And, importantly, the relationship can be a commodity: you choose a place based on desirable attributes, grand children high on the list (!), life style preferences, health advantages and so on. Last but not least the tie to a place can be involuntary, a bond by material pressures, constrained by economic dependency or lack of choice (and I am not going into the legislative proposals floating around that in the future women will only be allowed to leave a state if they prove they are not pregnant.)

Sandy Coastline #ivanshishkin # Realism

Sandy Coastline # Heuer #photography

Note, for all of you who move(d) with mixed feeling: the element of choice is one that can (re)establish a sense of place, a positive attachment. Given that our notions of a somewhat ideal community change across the life span, it follows that we would want to relocate towards something closer to our ideals. It might not be easy, but then being stuck in an increasingly lonely place isn’t either. It might not be your first choice, but at least you have a choice, in contrast to people displaced by involuntary reasons.

Mirror Lake shrouded in mist # Heuer #photography

The research bears out that you increase the likelihood of positive attachment to a place with increased participation in a community, with benefits for the environment in return (the more attached people are to a place, the more they invest to protect that place, urban or rural). I think community participation is particularly difficult if you are older, and now constrained by the pandemic dangers for many of us. Nonetheless, focussing on ways to integrate with people who share interests or political goals might be the way to go. Joining walking tours to explore the architecture or history of a place might help. Even if you loathe group activities or don’t feel up to take history courses, there are ways to familiarize yourself with the place on one’s own. Worthwhile exploring!

(And on a totally selfish note: I miss every single one of you who is moving/has moved…. you are putting a dent in my sense of place! And welcome to the ones moving in!)

Grass # Heuer #photography

Music by a quintessential Russian composer. (And YES I do not cancel Russian artists if they have no affinity to current events.) “The 14th symphony is scored for soprano, bass, and orchestra and dedicated to English composer Benjamin Britten. Comprised of 11 texts by Federico Garcia Lorca, Apollinaire, Küchelbecker, and Rainer Maria Rilke, the theme of mortality unites these varied texts. The result is a highly unorthodox, engrossing reminder that death is always waiting.”

So we might as well make the best of our remaining time, moving and all!)

Forest Landscape # Heuer #photography