One scene has lingered in my mind: in “The Gleaners and I”, Agnes and her film editor join other gleaners in the dead of night, collecting discarded scraps. Her editor ultimately takes nothing, but she carries away a small, transparent plastic clock—without hands. She remarks how perfectly it suits her style: a clock without hands, time that never flows.1 Thus, what strikes me most profoundly is often the “I” following “The Gleaners.” So now I resolve to present some of the findings gathered at this site through my own presence.
“The Gleaners and I”, 2000.
I'm quite anxious about what to do if this week's investigation yields no insightful results. Meaningful discoveries occur infrequently; if described in terms of rhythm, it would be a dull, drawn-out cadence that seems i r r e g u l a r. Yet I can summarize all my previous findings in this c l e a r , s t r u c t u r e d rhythm.
Map of the path from Lancaster Gate to Porchester Gate, 2025.
Investigation Method
This is part of my notes from the third week. “I sat on my favorite bench, Bench C, I say this isn't without reason. This bench is the tallest of them all, so sitting isn't particularly comfortable. This keeps me focused on my note-taking, preventing me from dozing off."
Events and Perception
I notice what happens at the center of my attention, unaware of events further out.
When I focused on counting step intervals, shifts in wind temperature or the deceleration of a pram went unrecorded; the moment I looked up at the play of light and shadow through leaves, passersby had already moved on. Their occurrence was not determined by the presence or absence of sound, but by whether I paused my attention upon them.
The map I drew approximated the limits of [my perceptual field], while the site's [full [field] scope] extended far beyond that [field].
Rhythm and System
(the distances between six benches and gates measured by my footsteps)
Why are the benches near the park entrance closer together? When seated on benches A and F, I distinctly hear more sounds from the street than the park, making the rhythm tighter."
When layered, the rhythm of bench spacing corresponds to the rhythm in auditory system I perceive, a relationship I describe in the text as
Visible and Invisible
Sitting on Bench C, I heard grass rustling behind me. When I looked down at the sound, I was delighted to see a puppy scurrying beneath the chair. “If I weren't sensitive to sound, I'd surely miss many such surprises.”
These insights ultimately shaped the form of my presentation. I experimented with translating sounds into rhythmic notation, but felt awkward presenting it the second week, this visual form felt like communicating across a mountain range. Without textual annotations, the notation struggled to convey my critical findings effectively. So I ended up with this literal article as a finale, employing some interesting typography that helps me to communicate.