There is something deeply mystifying about being fully present at a specific moment in time and space. It is an endless process of observing and relating to the surrounding complexities — to matters that are familiar to us, but also to matters that are other: what is still to be recognised and included in our conception of a particular social and physical environment. These less conspicuous elements are not only bodies and cultures that have been socially subordinated to the category of other, but also other non-human species and matters.

Our ability to tune in with that which is beyond the perception of the norm and is, perhaps, not even visible to the human eye depends on a sensitivity towards the unknown on many different scales. Although its language or behaviour can be difficult to sense and appreciate, this otherness is there: it’s part of the manifold environment we live in, and are inextricably bound with. Or, as philosopher Achille Mbembe puts it, we discover our selves “in relation […] to other selves with whom we share the universe.”1 — to which I would add, both human and non-human beings.

Taking engagement with complexities as the focal point of the Fluid Rhythms programme, we employed the concept of rhythmanalysis as one of the means for achieving such an engagement. Rhythmanalysis is a process of observing the urban environment through the experience of everyday rhythms — a concept initially introduced by the philosopher and sociologist Henri Lefebvre, who suggested that the rhythm of city life is best understood by experiencing it as an intersection of place, time, and energy expenditure. Urban rhythm can easily be recognised in the repetitions and changes in everyday life activities, on both the macro and micro levels. Rhythm as an event is a situational compilation in the intersection between circumstances and materialities; it is easily disturbed, yet hard to point out. Our proposition to observe the urban fabric through the lens of rhythms was motivated by the potential to recognise various inter-dependent elements; it is a sensorial, embodied and subjective process. However, the spectrum of rhythms we take into account depends on how much we are capable of recognising and understanding. There is no equalisation between tuning and balance: tuning is an ongoing process of inter-relations; furthermore, in a way, it disturbs conventions of recognising urban relations. The destabilisation through rhythm comes in practising sensitivity towards the interdependency between the visible or obvious, and the invisible.

During our programme, we thought of rhythmanalysis as a rather polyrhythmic inquiry with the potential of understanding tuning-in as a mode of research. Back then and until now, the proposal of Lefebvre liberated researchers from the rigid boundaries of data-driven quantitative methods. Stating that rhythms are experienced by human senses, Lefebvre contributed to understanding embodied and intuitive experiences as tools of knowing. However, his proposal still existed within the binary oppositions between the researched object and the researcher (the expert’s position “from above”). If the rhythms can be only sensed by those involved in a specific rhythmic territory, that means that polyrhythmic inquiry can be a horizontal process; a process of becoming together with the world, rather than reporting on it, or explaining it, employing a predefined method (Barad, Lincoln, MacLure, Springgay & Truman, Stengers, St. Pierre, Ylirisku).

Following up on the research conducted during this polyrhythmic inquiry, I have been moving towards such a rhythm-focused approach, and have identified several of its stages (which can happen simultaneously):

This research was further developed within the School for Multi-Species Knowledges.