Journal articles on the topic 'Urban renewal Bilbao (Spain)'

The role of culture in urban regeneration should be studied at different levels. Cultural mapping gives us a new understanding of the historical processes that have transformed public spaces in cities whose productive models and social relationships have undergone critical changes, affecting how they project their identity inside and outside their boundaries. Our research focuses on the case study of Bilbao (Basque Country, Spain). The first part of the analysis centres on a critical interpretation of the importance granted to cultural infrastructures in areas that were most intensely exposed to the changes which are known as the ‘Guggenheim effect’ on the international scene. This study especially examines the tension between today’s transformations and managing memories from the past. The second part analyses cultural mapping practices developed in emerging areas of the city such as the Zorrotzaurre peninsula, which is the new focus of the metropolitan development scheme. The proposals chosen for this study foster democratic responsibility in city management by using new technologies. They enable us take a closer look at some of the city’s most innovative collaborative cultural mapping practices, methodology and processes, as well as the theoretical frameworks that inspired them. Lastly, a proposal is put forth to implement participatory cultural mapping to identify the spillover effects of the cultural and creative industries located in renewed urban spaces.Keywords: cultural mapping, Bilbao, urban regeneration, social memory, creative citiesRésumé: Le rôle de la culture dans les stratégies de régénération urbaine devrait être étudié à plusieurs niveaux. La pratique de la cartographie culturelle révèle l’importance des processus historiques et des transformations identitaires à l’oeuvre dans les villes où les modèles productifs ont subi d’importantes mutations. Cet article met en évidence le cas de la ville de Bilbao dans le Pays basque espagnol. La première partie de cet article discute des incidences de « l’effet Guggenheim » sur l’ensemble des infrastructures culturelles de la ville. Cette partie met en relief la transformation et les enjeux mémoriels qui en découlent. La seconde partie de cet article discute de la cartographie culturelle de la péninsule de Zorrotzaurre, une partie de la vielle en pleine effervescence. Cet article adopte une attitude de responsabilisation démocratique dans son utilisation des nouvelles technologies pour la gestion municipale. Cet aspect est développé dans une réflexion sur l’usage des technologies, sur la participation publique l’impact des industries culturelles et creatives sur les éspaces urbaines rénouvelées.Mots clé: cartographie culturelle, Bilbao, régénération urbaine, mémoire sociale, villes créatives

This study assesses the impact of a heat wave on the thermal comfort of an unconstructed area: the North Zone of the Island of Zorrotzaurre (Bilbao, Spain). In this study, the impact of urban planning as proposed in the master plan on thermal comfort is modeled using the ENVI-met program. Likewise, the question of whether the urbanistic proposals are designed to create more resilient urban environments is analyzed in the face of increasingly frequent extreme weather events, especially heat waves. The study is centered on the analysis of temperature variables (air temperature and average radiant temperature) as well as wind speed and relative humidity. This was completed with the parameters of thermal comfort, the physiological equivalent temperature (PET) and the Universal Temperature Climate Index (UTCI) for the hours of the maximum and minimum daily temperatures. The results demonstrated the viability of analyzing thermal comfort through simulations with the ENVI-met program in order to analyze the behavior of urban spaces in various climate scenarios.

In the last decades, some European cities have undergone important changes in search of a more sustainable development. This is the case for the city of Bilbao (Bizkaia, Basque Country), where a Greenbelt has been maintained surrounding the urban areas allowing the periurban areas to deliver ecosystem services (ES) to society. However, the role of the different ecosystems in the provision of ES is not the same, which can lead to conflicts among them. The aim of this study is to analyze the synergies and trade-offs among the eight most important ES in the Bilbao Metropolitan Greenbelt (BMG) to orient their management strategies towards more multifunctional landscapes. We mapped the ES and overlapped them looking for the most relevant areas for the provision of multiple ES and areas that are mostly lacking ES provision. We identify also existing ES trade-offs and synergies between ES using correlations so that managers can prioritize preservation efforts of land use types in the rest of the area. The results show that provisioning ES had trade-offs with regulating and cultural ES and the latter showed synergies between them. The former are mainly delivered by semi-natural ecosystems, while regulating and cultural ES are delivered mainly by natural ecosystems. Moreover, the most relevant areas for the provision of multiple ES were proposed as potential components of a Green Infrastructure (GI). Their identification and ES bundles could help decision-makers to orient their management strategies towards sustainability in metropolitan areas.

This paper analyzes Jesuit pedagogy in Spain after the Second Vatican Council, encompassing recent trends and shifts by first delving into the main elements involved in the postconciliar crisis and renewal of the Society of Jesus in Spain, including the various critiques that this change received (part II). Second, this paper sheds light on the current Jesuit Ledesma-Kolvenbach University Paradigm, including its practical application and evaluation at the University of Deusto in Bilbao (part III). Third, this paper takes a brief look at the current reconsideration of active Jesuit pedagogy in Spain (and in Catalonia in particular), bearing in mind the contextualized convergences of educational philosophy (part IV). The concluding remarks address basic results from the analysis of these three elements.

In this paper a harbour engineering application of an operational system to forecast circulation and transport fields is presented. It deals with the functional design of a quay in the Bilbao harbour (Bay of Biscay, North-Atlantic coast of Spain). The aim is to use physical oceanography “tools” to design the optimal quay alignment according to two criteria: i) Minimize the currents in order to guarantee the vessel maneuverability and quay operability for given safety levels and ii) Maximize the water renewal capacity of the harbour inner basins (beyond the studied quay) in order to reduce the risk of water quality degradation. The methodology and the results reveal a new procedure to enhance the harbour lay-out design from an environment point of view.

Purpose In the past decade, urban tourism has increased worldwide as a result of the development of peer-to-peer (P2P) accommodation platforms such as Airbnb, causing a major disruption to the tourism industry and urban space. The expansion of tourist accommodation in cities has motivated many governments to act, to control its effects and reduce conflicts between tourists and residents. The purpose of this paper is to identify the attractions that have motivated the concentration of P2P accommodation and its effects in specific areas of Valencia different from the historical centre: the Russafa and El Cabanyal-Canyamelar neighbourhoods. Design/methodology/approach The methodology used includes fieldwork and spatial analysis of factors such as the housing market, tourist attractions, local businesses and urban renewal policies. Findings The current spatial distribution pattern of tourist housing in Valencia is the result of the convergence of various factors: the initial presence of tourists in some areas; the evolution of certain aspects of the neighbourhood due to urban renewal; the concentration of tourist and leisure activities; the effects of the legal framework Originality/value Many researchers have addressed the effects of rising short-term rentals (STRs) in cities, but the causes of their concentration in specific neighbourhoods different from historical centres have not yet been sufficiently investigated. This research looks in depth at the urban causes and effects of the spatial distribution of tourist housing in Valencia, to anticipate possible future concentrations of STRs in other areas and to avoid gentrification. The methodology and results could be applied to other cities. The research implies a detailed and analysis of different aspects that act simultaneously such as the housing market, the evolution of the population and changes in the business.

The analysis of local climate conditions to test artificial urban boundaries and related climate hazards through modelling tools should become a common practice to inform public authorities about the benefits of planning alternatives. Different finishing materials and sheltering objects within urban canyons (UCs) can be tested, predicted and compared through quantitative and qualitative understanding of the relationships between the microclimatic environment and subjective thermal assessment. This process can work as support planning instrument in the early design phases as has been done in this study that aims to analyze the thermal stress within typical UCs of Bilbao (Spain) in summertime through the evaluation of Physiologically Equivalent Temperature using ENVI-met. The UCs are characterized by different orientations, height-to-width aspect ratios, pavement materials, trees’ dimensions and planting pattern. Firstly, the current situation was analyzed; secondly, the effects of asphalt and red brick stones as streets’ pavement materials were compared; thirdly, the benefits of vegetation elements were tested. The analysis demonstrated that orientation and aspect ratio strongly affect the magnitude and duration of the thermal peaks at pedestrian level; while the vegetation elements improve the thermal comfort up to two thermophysiological assessment classes. The outcomes of this study, were transferred and visualized into green planning recommendations for new and consolidated urban areas in Bilbao.

ABSTRACTThis paper analyses the consequences of urban environmental degradation on the well-being of Spanish miners. It is based on analyses of differences in mortality and height. The first part of the paper examines new hypotheses regarding the urban penalty. We take into consideration existing works in economic theory that address market failures when analysing the higher urban death rate. We explain the reduction in height using the model recently created by Floud, Fogel, Harris and Hong for British cities. The second part of the paper presents information demonstrating that the urban areas in the two largest mining areas in Spain (Bilbao and the Cartagena-La Unión mountain range) experienced a higher death rate relative to rural areas as a consequence of market failures derived from what we term an ‘anarchic urbanisation’.

Abstract In this paper I examine the characteristics of metropolitan governance in Spain. In the first part, I briefly analyse the different theoretical conceptions and the existing models of metropolitan governance in Europe. I argue that metropolitan governance is explained by the interrelations between the specific institutional context (intergovernmental system) and political culture (attitudes towards metropolitan cooperation). This institutional milieu sets the conditions for the action of political actors and favours the existence of a specific model of metropolitan governance. In the second part, I study the case of Spain, which is interesting for two main reasons. First, it exemplifies well one of the problems of metropolitan governance: the permanent gap between institutions and the process of metropolitanization. Second, in Spain there is a diversity of models of metropolitan governance, which is useful to analyse the reasons for this variation. To do so, I focus on five urban areas (Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Bilbao and Sevilla), analysing their models of metropolitan governance and particularly their degree of institutionalization and the type of institutional arrangements that have been made.

Abstract Urban renewal projects are based on long-term strategies and huge economical resources. It takes a lot of time to successfully regenerate an abandoned area, create a new centre, infrastructure, businesses, communities. It also needs the kind of systematic and conscious focus that we see in Germany and Scandinavia. While Spain was one of the most touched countries of the economical crisis, it still succeeded at presenting interesting urban development initiatives. One example is the follow-up of the Olympic development in Barcelona, 22@Barcelona project. I would like to introduce the ongoing project’s main objectives and processes and elaborate on the most interesting and valuable results from this project to consider for the present strategy of brownfield renewal in Hungary.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to argue that for many urban dwellers in developed societies proximity of the arts in the urban space is not tantamount to their availability. Design/methodology/approach – The method applied is based upon the conception of capabilities and the concept of the Human Development Index; an analysis of the available cultural statistics, as well as a study of two revealing case studies, that of Bilbao, Spain and Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA, as distinct and alternative examples of the employment of arts as a stimulus for the urban growth and regeneration. Findings – The findings suggest that the current urban policies are not conducive to an equal access to the arts of the urban dwellers. Originality/value – The author provides an innovative explanation of this phenomenon from his own perspective of the political aesthetics, which includes, inter alia, the concepts of the public agoraphobia, commodification and interpassivity. Making use of the distinction between the intrinsic and instrumental values, the author argues in favour of the participative approach to the arts in the urban social life, and formulates a policy recommendation according to which small- and medium-sized cities are possibly better suited to satisfy the need for the enjoyment of the arts in a more egalitarian way.

BACKGROUND: Industrial complexes and technical culture complexes are significant morphological elements of the city.AIM: This paper focuses on the two European towns and showcases: Bilbao in Spain and Zagreb in Croatia.MATERIAL AND METHODS: The extravagant project of Gehry’s started the reformation of the Bilbao with growth of tourism and profit in general. Beside the urban regeneration, it started the trend of star-architects building their masterpieces one next to another along the river Nervion. This paper focuses on two complexes of technical culture buildings in Zagreb, presenting early conversion versus still unsolved regeneration.RESULTS: Former industrial city of Bilbao is nowadays a symbol of contemporary architecture featured by Guggenheim Museum and designed by Frank Ghery. It featured urban regeneration and numerous other examples of the contemporary architecture. This paper focuses as well on conversion of former wine-storage for mixed-use complex designed by Philippe Starck. The initial idea of the project was to revive the dying neighborhood because of the gentrification caused by the Guggenheim Museum. Zagreb intensive development in recent 150 years is based on industrialization process. After intensive deindustrialization, regeneration of redundant industrial complexes and technical culture buildings is segmented. Although the most prominent regenerations are significant architectural achievements winning the most prominent architectural awards, numerous complexes are awaiting for the conversions. Many of them are left to decay, or were demolished promptly, offering attractive location for new buildings that have been raised. This paper focuses on two complexes of technical culture buildings in Zagreb, presenting early conversion versus still unsolved regeneration. The first one is the avant-garde example of conversion of Tannery building for the Glypthotek of Yugoslav, i.e. Croatian Academy of Science and Art. The other example is Zagreb Fair, which realization since 1955 has initialized urbanization of late modern New Zagreb. Decay of Fair function, led to provisory or designed conversion of pavilions for new purposes, but the integral regeneration still is still missing.CONCLUSION:Urban regeneration should be considered seriously, and lead to transformation to contemporary city of 21st century.

This paper considers the reception and growth of sport in Spain in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, a period during which the new activity developed from a novelty into part of the national culture. I focus on who exactly gravitated to sport and why, to explain this growth and ground that explanation in the larger national and regional history. Several factors and early groups spurred Spanish interest in sport including the movement to ‘regenerate’ the country around the turn of the century, the support from the medical community, and organizations such as the Institución Libre de Enseñanza and the Federación Gimnástica Española. Sport was also attractive to the emerging urban, Spanish middle classes who embraced it as a form of conspicuous consumption and for whom sport served a similar social purpose as art in cities such as Barcelona. In the 1910s and 1920s, the masses also became receptive to sport and football in particular for various reasons. In particular, clubs created local identities that drew in members and allowed teams to serve as community leaders, like Athletic de Bilbao and F.C. Barcelona do today.

After the deep economic crisis that began in 2008, in 2014, Spain started to show signs of recovery, entering the so-called “post-crisis” period. Though it has not yet reached the entire population, economic improvement has had a positive impact on the real estate market, economic activity, and employment. Residential mobility has also increased, but flows have become more unstable and complex. The direction of these flows, the reasons for moving, and the ages and socioeconomic categories of migrants have diversified. These complex “new mobility” patterns are reconfiguring the spatial distribution of the population in Spanish urban areas. On the basis of Continuous Register (Padrón Continuo) microdata, this paper primarily aims to study population changes in the 69 Spanish functional urban areas (FUAs) defined by the National Institute of Statistics (INE)/Eurostat, focusing on their population growth or decline in their centers and peripheries during the crisis (2011–2015) and post-crisis (2015–2019) phases. Then, the paper analyzes the five major Spanish metropolises (Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville, and Bilbao) in greater depth. The findings confirm the hypothesis that, during the post-crisis period, the population growth of cores and rings and thus the spatial distribution of urban inhabitants have been changing, resulting in the growing demographic heterogeneity of Spanish urban areas that are diversifying both internally and compared to each other.

Abstract The study compares the on-going naturbanization processes in and around two Natural Parks under the impact of newcomers, but also tourists from Barcelona and Bucharest and their metropolitan areas. The landscape value of these areas attracts the urban population, which contributes to local sustainable development process but also promotes construction. New businesses associated with rural multifunctionality and value-added activities related to environmental quality were identified. New residents have contributed introducing responsible patterns of consumer, ecoentrepreneurship by women, recovery of abandoned buildings and intensification of rural-urban relationships. Negative impacts such as intensive construction of second homes, with a lower use, in some areas around Cadí-Moixeró threaten biodiversity and habitat connectivity. Insufficient integration of environmental policies, particularly in the Comana wetlands, reduces the potential for rural renewal. Research methods included a review of the counterurbanization literature and the statistical data related to processes of naturbanization in both areas, along with the conduct of 30 structured interviews with key local actors in each area. Naturbanization still offers the potential to enhance local development; however, it is urgent to assess social perspectives in natural parks management in order to achieve environmentally friendly built-up areas.

While most published studies on the economy of culture present a clear bias in favor of large cities, a significant international bibliography has emerged in recent years that privileges the perspective of medium and small cities. Unfortunately, the case of Spain has been largely overlooked by these analyses; this text is intended to remedy that oversight. To that end, a bibliographic compilation has been undertaken of studies on the cultural economy and cultural development in small and medium Spanish cities, providing a review of the specific literature as contrasted with the international literature. The main conclusions indicate that the Spanish case is similar to that of other western countries. Thus, clear confirmation is found that the effects of agglomeration economies and the so-called metropolitan bias also prevail in Spain, together with dispersion patterns that, to a certain extent, favor particular small and medium cities. Furthermore, even though the literature on the use of culture for urban renewal is abundant, the same cannot be said for the economics of culture, where considerable research gaps persist, both in the geographical coverage of case studies and in the social or labor impacts of this economic model.

En este artículo se aborda un tipo de relaciones que, a priori, parecen difíciles de conciliar, las que se plantean entre el llamado turismo residencial (denominación bajo la que a menudo se esconden los intereses del sector inmobiliario) y el turismo de naturaleza en espacios litorales. Tras un encuadre de la problemática, hemos optado por un caso de estudio que reúne buena parte de los rasgos que definen este tipo de espacios turísticos: por un lado, fuerte crecimiento inmobiliario, expansión urbana, alto nivel de permisibilidad urbanística y escasa adecuación del modelo a las condiciones ambientales; por otro, entorno de elevado valor ecológico y declaración como espacio natural protegido. Además, este caso de estudio tiene también cualidades específicas o distintivas, entre las que se encuentra su localización en la costa cantábrica, donde estos procesos han sido menos estudiados que en el Mediterráneo, y su proximidad al área metropolitana de Bilbao que ejerce como centro urbano de influencia. A partir del repaso de todas estas características, analizamos si la puesta en valor turístico de un espacio protegido supone un cambio real del modelo residencial e inmobiliario seguido hasta ahora o simplemente la adaptación a unas nuevas condiciones de mercado. This article studies a relationship, which a priori appears incompatible, between so called residential tourism (a name under which real estate interests lie) and tourism related to nature in coastal areas. After establishing a theoretical and methodological framework, a case study is analysed: the municipality of Noja in the North of Spain. This case combines most of the features that define this area type. On the one hand, strong real estate growth, a high level of urban sprawl and speculation, and limited control and adjustment of the model to environmental conditions. On the other hand, it is an ecologically valuable, protected, natural area. Moreover, this particular case study has specific or distinctive qualities, such as a geographical location on the Cantabrian coast where few studies have been carried out, unlike the Mediterranean coast, and proximity to the influential metropolitan area of Bilbao. Following a review of all of the above characteristics, we analyse whether the implementation of tourist values in a protected space represents a major change in the residential and real estate model pursued to date or whether these changes are just a gradual adjustment to new market conditions.

The majority of scientific agencies in the field of medicine and health, including the World Health Organization, consider radon gas a very harmful element for humans. This element, in its gaseous state, is radioactive and is present in almost all land in which buildings are implanted, especially in granitic soils, which present higher levels of radon gas. Nongranitic soils have traditionally been considered to have low radon levels. In addition to the contributions made by this article, it is very relevant that there are many countries, including Spain, in which the technical codes for their construction regulations do not include the maximum radon dose that a building can hold so that it is not harmful to humans nor do they hold the measures necessary to remedy excessive accumulation. The main objective of this research is to demonstrate the need for ventilation in buried works. To do this, a comparison is made between two railway tunnels in the urban fabric of the city of Alicante: one of them is in operation (Benacantil Mount) and the other is in the excavation phase (Serra Grossa). When underground railway installations are planned, they are equipped with large air ventilation systems due to the pollutants generated by ground exposure. These mechanical systems consist of suction turbines that expel the air to the outside. Research shows that radon gas is an indicator of an area’s air quality. In addition, ventilation in railway tunnels (mechanical and natural) allows for air renewal and improves the air quality.

The present study analyzes the prosodic characteristics of the variety of Spanish in contact with Basque (in the Basque Country, Spain). We focus on information-seeking yes/no questions, which present different intonation contours in Spanish and Basque. In Castilian Spanish, these sentences end in a rising contour, whereas in Basque, they end in a falling or rising–falling circumflex contour. In our previous work, this topic was investigated among the urban populations of Bilbao and San Sebastian. The results were that 79% of information-seeking yes/no questions had final falling intonational configurations. All the speakers presented a substantial presence of final falls regardless of their linguistic profile, but there were differences among speakers in the degree of presence of such features. A correlation was observed between the dependent variable of ‘frequency of occurrence of final falls in absolute interrogatives’ and social factors, such as ‘degree of contact with Basque’ and ‘attitudes towards Basque and the Basque ethnolinguistic group’. The correlation was that the higher the degree of contact with Basque and the more positive the attitudes towards Basque and the Basque ethnolinguistic group, the greater the frequency of occurrence of final falling intonational contours in information-seeking absolute interrogatives. The interpretation of this correlation was that the adoption of the characteristic Basque prosody allows speakers to be recognized as members of the Basque community. In the present study, we focused on rural areas. Falling intonational contours at the end of information-seeking absolute interrogatives were even more common than in urban areas (93.4%), and no correlation was found with degree of contact with Basque and with attitudes towards Basque. Our interpretation is that in rural areas the presence of Basque in daily life is stronger, and that there is a consolidated variety of Spanish used by all speakers regardless of their attitudes. Thus, the adoption of intonating features of this language is not the only indicator belonging to the Basque ethnolinguistic group. Our study reveals the great relevance of subjective social factors, such as language attitudes, in the degree of convergence between two languages.

The article is of a generalizing nature; the authors investigate the problem associated with architectural design in the historical environment. The newly built civilian objects are considered as examples of the organic interaction between “old” and “new” in European cities. The authors’ positions of domestic and foreign professionals regarding the development of the potential of the historical centres of modern cities are considered. In connection with the dynamics of urban growth in the XXI century, the problem of renewal and development of historically established centers arises. Development as a modernization of the historical environment assumes a high-quality level of integration of relevant functions in the unique conditions of authentic urban structures. The cultural aspect of the problem is to solve the main problem of the historical environment -the preservation and protection of the valuable architectural and urban planning heritage. The authors highlight the need for an integrated approach to theproblem and formulation of a development strategy. The experience of Odessa shows the negative results of delay in such matters. Urban space as a living organism presupposes a progressive process of regeneration of both the urban structure and the “tissue” of the city, filling the space and being subordinated to the structure. A scientific approach presupposes discussion, variability and flexibility concerning the protection and development of the historical environment. However, taking into account the whole complex of economic, administrative, and cultural conditions, we can say about two main approaches in relation to the historical architectural environment in Ukraine. One is based on a conservative approach and denies the objects of modern architecture in the historical environment. This approach assumes that a historically formed urban planning formation is an integral urban planning phenomenon and only allows the construction of new objects in historical styles, allows the priority task of restoration and reconstruction of existing objects. Another approach is based on a dialectical approach and allows the introduction into the historical tissue of the city of new objects that meet all progressive achievements of engineering and technology, have modern and current features of the style (stylistic direction). At the same time, an important aspect is the novelty and high aesthetic level of architecture, due to the requirements of modern society. The logic of this approach comes from the very essence ofarchitecture, placed in the classic triad of benefit, strength and beauty. The most important factor that determines the value of the historical core of the city, in particular, the historical centre of Odessa, is the integrity of the historical structure, the interaction of all elements of the architectural complex, and a balanced urban infrastructure. At the same time, the architectural complex consists of objects of different value categories. Some are historical and architectural monuments of the universal, state and local importance. Others are authentic objects of “back-ground” development that contribute to the integrity of the city’s historical tissue. This is the picture that shows a historical accuracy. According to the authors, the scale for determining the objective value of each architectural object in this case is of a relative nature and, to a large extent, in our time is not the primary task of preserving the architectural heritage. The task of an integrated approach to the problem and elaboration of a preservation strategy is a priority task. In recent years, intensive construction has taken place on local fragments of the historical part of the city, which leads to the final destruction of the historical city. In many cases, modern civil engineering works are monotonous and have doubtful cultural qualities, and at the technical level they exacerbate the situation of collapse at the infrastructural level. There is an international, in particular, European experience in solving the problem of the conflict between new and historical in the cities of Germany, Poland, Spain, etc. The destructive cataclysms of the XX century caused great losses to the architectural heritage. The world community has developed norms and rules that allow for a huge number of implementation options in the context of regional features. The problem of a new construction in the historical environment today is not about the question of whether the object is stylized or modernized. The problem is to determine the principles of interaction of the historical environment with new structures, in the degree of “civility” of a new architecture, the ability of the “new” to further develop the potential of urban space.

This article describes the rise of the term governance from its beginnings in the business world and the neoliberal economic thought through its application in urban renewal actions in the world’s major cities. Over the analysis, we argue that it was the theoretical discourse of urban governance and competitiveness that for decades enabled the private property sector to direct the urban regeneration processes of greatest added value. Changes in transport infrastructures and the abandonment of old industrial facilities left large central segments of the city available for redevelopment in line with the theories of post-Fordist capitalism. The global economic crisis has paralysed many of these projects, which had entailed the investment of large sums of public money and yielded low social returns. At the same time, criticism has been levelled against governance and strategic planning. Here, I examine the processes of governance and competitiveness as an urban objective and recent examples of urban renewal in Spanish cities.

La integración de la adaptación al cambio climático en la planificación de los usos del suelo, así como la evaluación de este proceso, se han situado de forma preferente en las políticas urbanas y en los ámbitos de gestión de las ciudades. La tesis doctoral en la que se apoya este documento aporta herramientas que permiten incorporar con éxito las estrategias de adaptación a los procesos de planificación urbanística. Entre las herramientas detectadas, la infraestructura verde juega un papel crucial en la definición de estrategias de adaptación al cambio climático. A partir de la investigación realizada se ha propuesto un marco de indicadores y parámetros de referencia para la evaluación de la capacidad adaptativa en la planificación urbanística. La aplicación a dos casos de estudio en EE. UU. (Red Hook, Brooklyn, Nueva York) y España (Zorrotzaurre, Bilbao) ha permitido validar e implementar su utilidad como instrumentos para la planificación, así como para su seguimiento y evaluación.Abstract:The integration of adaptation to climate change into land use planning, and the monitoring and evaluation mechanisms of this process, have been preferentially placed in urban policies and city management. This research work provides tools that enable successful incorporation of adaptation strategies into urban planning processes. Among the tools identified, green infrastructure plays a key role in defining strategies for adapting cities to climate change. Based on the research carried out, an indicator framework and benchmarks for adaptive capacity assessment have been proposed. The application on two case-studies in The United States (Red Hook, Brooklyn, NY) and Spain (Zorrotzaurre, Bilbao) has enabled the tools’ validation and implementation as instruments for planning, as well as for monitoring and evaluation of their adaptive capacity.

The paper aims to analyse how the different economic phases that Spain has experienced in the first two decades of the 21st century (expansion, recession, and recovery) have influenced population stocks and migratory flows in the five largest metropolitan areas defined as Functional Urban Areas (FUAs) in Spain: Barcelona, Bilbao, Madrid, Seville and Valencia. Using Padrón Continuo (municipal registers) and Estadística de Variaciones Residenciales (residential change statistics) as data sources, both native and immigrant – i.e. born abroad – stocks, and internal and international migration flows are analysed. We study differences between (a) diverse groups of foreigners (by continental origin), also comparing them to natives; and (b) different types of residential mobility by migrants’ previous place of residence: “intrametropolitan” movements (between urban cores and peripheries), migration flows between the five urban areas and the rest of Spain, and international migration. Results show that intrametropolitan migration flows between the five urban cores and their peripheries were characterised by suburbanisation during the expansion phase. These flows were particularly relevant for Spanish-born persons and, among foreign-born migrants, for people born in the Americas (mainly Latin Americans). These flows to the suburban periphery decreased during the economic crisis, and in 2013 and 2014 net intrametropolitan migration of most foreign groups was characterised by recentralisation. Spaniards’ intrametropolitan movements almost reached equilibrium during the recession years: Natives decreased their moves from cores to rings, while they were increasingly attracted to urban centres. Owing to the incipient economic recovery, suburbanisation is progressively recovering its previous strength. As for other types of residential moves, foreign-born migrants moving from abroad and the rest of Spain to the five FUAs during the economic expansion phase reversed the direction of their flows in the economic crisis years, migrating abroad or dispersing throughout Spain in search of jobs. Consequently, their stocks declined in some years. Currently, due to the incipient economic recovery, the five FUAs are attracting internal and international foreign-born immigrants once again, so their foreign-born population stocks are increasing in both cores and peripheries. Spaniards show the opposite behaviour regarding flows to and from the five areas analysed – they tended to disperse throughout the rest of Spain during the economic expansion phase. This trend continued during the crisis years, but at a slower pace, as natives became increasingly attracted to urban cores. Furthermore, this latter trend has strengthened during the post-crisis years. Finally, considering foreign-born and Spanish populations together, large urban areas are increasingly attractive. This global tendency is to the detriment of rural areas and of non-metropolitan small and medium size towns, which lose population due to negative net migration. * This article belongs to a special issue on “Internal Migration as a Driver of Regional Population Change in Europe: Updating Ravenstein”.

Introduction In the wake of the disaster of World War I, the Surrealists formulated a hostile critique of the novel that identified its limitations in expressing the depth of the mind's faculties and the fragmentation of the psyche after catastrophic events. From this position of crisis, the Surrealists undertook a series of experimental innovations in form, structure, and style in an attempt to renew the genre. This article examines how the praxis of shock is deployed in a number of Surrealist city novels as a conduit for revolt against a society that grew increasingly mechanised in the climate of post-war regeneration. It seeks to counter the contemporary view that Surrealist city dérives (drifts) represent an intriguing yet ultimately benign method of urban research. By reconsidering its origins in response to a world catastrophe, this article emphasises the Surrealist novel’s binding of the affective properties of shock to the dream-awakening dialectic at the heart of the political position of Surrealism. The Surrealist City Novel Today it has almost become a truism to assert that there is a causal link between the catastrophic devastation wrought by the events of the two World Wars and the ideology of rupture that characterised the iconoclasms of the Modernist avant-gardes. Yet, as we progress into the twenty-first century, it is timely to recognise that new generations are rediscovering canonical and peripheral texts of this era and refracting them through a prism of contemporary preoccupations. In many ways, the revisions of today’s encounters with that past era suggest we have travelled some distance from the rawness of such catastrophic events. One post-war body of work recently subjected to view via an unexpected route is the remarkable array of Surrealist city novels set in Paris in the 1920s and 1930s, representing a spectrum of experimental texts by such authors as André Breton, Louis Aragon, Robert Desnos, Philippe Soupault, and Michel Leiris. Over the past decade, these works have become recuperated in the Anglophone context as exemplary instances of ludic engagement with the city. This is due in large part to the growing surge of interest in psychogeography, an urban research method concerned with the influence that geographical environments exert over the emotions and behaviours of individuals, and a concern for tracing the literary genealogies of walking and writing in broad sweeping encyclopaedic histories and guidebook style accounts (for prominent examples see Rebecca Solnit’s Wanderlust and Merlin Coverley’s Psychogeography). Yet as Surrealist novels continue to garner renewed interest for their erotic intrigue, their strolling encounters with the unconscious or hidden facets of the city, and as precursors to the apparently more radical practice of Situationist psychogeography, this article suggests that something vital is missing. By neglecting the revolutionary significance that the Surrealists placed upon the street and its inextricable connection to the shock of the marvellous, I suggest that we have arrived at a point of diminished appreciation of the praxis of the dream-awakening dialectic at the heart of Surrealist politics. With the movement firmly lodged in the popular imagination as concerned merely with the art of play and surprise, the Surrealists’ sensorial conception of the city as embedded within a much larger critique of the creators of “a sterile and dead world” (Rasmussen 372) is lost. This calls into question to what extent we can now relate to the urgency with which avant-gardes like the Surrealists responded to the disaster of war in their call for “the revolution of the subject, a revolution that destroyed identity and released the fantastic” (372). At the same time, a re-evaluation of the Surrealist city novel as a significant precursor to the psychogeograhical dérive (drift) can prove instructive in locating the potential of walking, in order to function as a form of praxis (defined here as lived practice in opposition to theory) that goes beyond its more benign construction as the “gentle art” of getting lost. The Great Shock To return to the origins of Surrealism is to illuminate the radical intentions of the movement. The enormous shock that followed the Great War represented, according to Roger Shattuck, “a profound organic reaction that convulsed the entire system with vomiting, manic attacks, and semi-collapse” (9). David Gascoyne considers 1919, the inaugural year of Surrealist activity, as “a year of liquidation, the end of everything but also of paroxysmic death-birth, incubating seeds of renewal” (17). It was at this time that André Breton and his collaborator Philippe Soupault came together at the Hôtel des Grands Hommes in Paris to conduct their early experimental research. As the authors took poetic license with the psychoanalytical method of automatic writing, their desire to unsettle the latent content of the unconscious as it manifests in the spontaneous outpourings of dream-like recollections resulted in the first collection of Surrealist texts, The Magnetic Fields (1920). As Breton recalls: Completely occupied as I still was with Freud at that time, and familiar with his methods of examination which I had had some slight occasion to use on some patients during the war, I resolved to obtain from myself what we were trying to obtain from them, namely, a monologue spoken as rapidly as possible without any intervention on the part of critical faculties, a monologue consequently unencumbered by the slightest inhibition and which was, as closely as possible, akin to spoken thought. (Breton, Manifesto 22–23) Despite their debts to psychoanalytical methods, the Surrealists sought radically different ends from therapeutic goals in their application. Rather than using analysis to mitigate the pathologies of the psyche, Breton argued that such methods should instead be employed to liberate consciousness in ways that released the individual from “the reign of logic” (Breton, Manifesto 11) and the alienating forces of a mechanised society. In the same manifesto, Breton links his critique to a denunciation of the novel, principally the realist novel which dominated the literary landscape of the nineteenth-century, for its limitations in conveying the power of the imagination and the depths of the mind’s faculties. Despite these protestations, the Surrealists were unable to completely jettison the novel and instead launched a series of innovations in form, structure, and style in an attempt to renew the genre. As J.H. Matthews suggests, “Being then, as all creative surrealism must be, the expression of a mood of experimentation, the Surrealist novel probes not only the potentialities of feeling and imagination, but also those of novelistic form” (Matthews 6). When Nadja appeared in 1928, Breton was not the first Surrealist to publish a novel. However, this work remains the most well-known example of its type in the Anglophone context. Largely drawn from the author’s autobiographical experiences, it recounts the narrator’s (André’s) obsessive infatuation with a mysterious, impoverished and unstable young woman who goes by the name of Nadja. The pair’s haunted and uncanny romance unfolds during their undirected walks, or dérives, through the streets of Paris, the city acting as an affective register of their encounters. The “intellectual seduction” comes to an abrupt halt (Breton, Nadja 108), however, when Nadja does in fact go truly mad, disappearing from the narrator’s life when she is committed to an asylum. André makes no effort to seek her out and after launching into a diatribe vehemently attacking the institutions that administer psychiatric treatment, nonchalantly resumes the usual concerns of his everyday life. At a formal level, Breton’s unconventional prose indeed stirs many minor shocks and tremors in the reader. The insertion of temporally off-kilter photographs and surreal drawings are intended to supersede naturalistic description. However, their effect is to create a form of “negative indexicality” (Masschelein) that subtly undermines the truth claims of the novel. Random coincidences charged through with the attractive force of desire determine the plot while the compressed dream-like narrative strives to recount only those facts of “violently fortuitous character” (Breton, Nadja 19). Strikingly candid revelations perpetually catch the reader off guard. But it is in the novel’s treatment of the city, most specifically, in which we can recognise the evolution of Surrealism’s initial concern for the radically subversive and liberatory potential of the dream into a form of praxis that binds the shock of the marvellous to the historical materialism of Marx and Engels. This praxis unfolds in the novel on a number of levels. By placing its events firmly at the level of the street, Breton privileges the anti-heroic realm of everyday life over the socially hierarchical domain of the bourgeois domestic interior favoured in realist literature. More significantly, the sites of the city encountered in the novel act as repositories of collective memory with the power to rupture the present. As Margaret Cohen comprehensively demonstrates in her impressive study Profane Illumination, the great majority of sites that the narrator traverses in Nadja reveal connections in previous centuries to instances of bohemian activity, violent insurrection or revolutionary events. The enigmatic statue of Étienne Dolet, for example, to which André is inexplicably drawn on his city walks and which produces a sensation of “unbearable discomfort” (25), commemorates a sixteenth-century scholar and writer of love poetry condemned as a heretic and burned at the Place Maubert for his non-conformist attitudes. When Nadja is suddenly gripped by hallucinations and imagines herself among the entourage of Marie-Antoinette, “multiple ghosts of revolutionary violence descend on the Place Dauphine from all sides” (Cohen 101). Similarly, a critique of capitalism emerges in the traversal of those marginal and derelict zones of the city, such as the Saint-Ouen flea market, which become revelatory of the historical cycles of decay and ruination that modernity seeks to repress through its faith in progress. It was this poetic intuition of the machinations of historical materialism, in particular, that captured the attention of Walter Benjamin in his 1929 “Surrealism” essay, in which he says of Breton that: He can boast an extraordinary discovery: he was the first to perceive the revolutionary energies that appear in the “outmoded”—in the first iron constructions, the first factory buildings, the earliest photos, objects that have begun to be extinct, grand pianos, the dresses of five years ago, fashionable restaurants when the vogue has begun to ebb from them. The relation of these things to revolution—no one can have a more exact concept of it than these authors. (210) In the same passage, Benjamin makes passing reference to the Passage de l’Opéra, the nineteenth-century Parisian arcade threatened with demolition and eulogised by Louis Aragon in his Surrealist anti-novel Paris Peasant (published in 1926, two years earlier than Nadja). Loosely structured around a series of walks, Aragon’s book subverts the popular guidebook literature of the period by inventorying the arcade’s quotidian attractions in highly lyrical and imagistic prose. As in Nadja, a concern for the “outmoded” underpins the praxis which informs the politics of the novel although here it functions somewhat differently. As transitional zones on the cusp of redevelopment, the disappearing arcades attract Aragon for their liminal status, becoming malleable dreamscapes where an ontological instability renders them ripe for eruptions of the marvellous. Such sites emerge as “secret repositories of several modern myths,” and “the true sanctuaries of a cult of the ephemeral”. (Aragon 14) City as Dreamscape Contemporary literature increasingly reads Paris Peasant through the lens of psychogeography, and not unproblematically. In his brief guide to psychogeography, British writer Merlin Coverley stresses Aragon’s apparent documentary or ethnographical intentions in describing the arcades. He suggests that the author “rails against the destruction of the city” (75), positing the novel as “a handbook for today’s breed of psychogeographer” (76). The nuances of Aragon’s dream-awakening dialectic, however, are too easily effaced in such an assessment which overlooks the novel’s vertiginous and hyperbolic prose as it consistently approaches an unreality in its ambivalent treatment of the arcades. What is arguably more significant than any documentary concern is Aragon’s commitment to the broader Surrealist quest to transform reality by undermining binary oppositions between waking life and the realm of dreams. As Hal Foster’s reading of the arcades in Surrealism insists: This gaze is not melancholic; the surrealists do not cling obsessively to the relics of the nineteenth-century. Rather it uncovers them for the purposes of resistance through re-enchantment. If we can grasp this dialectic of ruination, recovery, and resistance, we will grasp the intimated ambition of the surrealist practice of history. (166) Unlike Aragon, Breton defended the political position of Surrealism throughout the ebbs and flows of the movement. This notion of “resistance through re-enchantment” retained its significance for Breton as he clung to the radical importance of dreams and the imagination, creative autonomy, and individual freedom over blind obedience to revolutionary parties. Aragon’s allegiance to communism led him to surrender the poetic intoxications of Surrealist prose in favour of the more sombre and austere tone of social realism. By contrast, other early Surrealists like Philippe Soupault contributed novels which deployed the praxis of shock in a less explicitly dialectical fashion. Soupault’s Last Nights of Paris (1928), in particular, responds to the influence of the war in producing a crisis of identity among a generation of young men, a crisis projected or transferred onto the city streets in ways that are revelatory of the author’s attunement to how “places and environment have a profound influence on memory and imagination” (Soupault 91). All the early Surrealists served in the war in varying capacities. In Soupault’s case, the writer “was called up in 1916, used as a guinea pig for a new typhoid vaccine, and spent the rest of the war in and out of hospital. His close friend and cousin, René Deschamps, was killed in action” (Read 22). Memories of the disaster of war assume a submerged presence in Soupault’s novel, buried deep in the psyche of the narrator. Typically, it is the places and sites of the city that act as revenants, stimulating disturbing memories to drift back to the surface which then suffuse the narrator in an atmosphere of melancholy. During the novel’s numerous dérives, the narrator’s detective-like pursuit of his elusive love-object, the young streetwalker Georgette, the tracking of her near-mute artist brother Octave, and the following of the ringleader of a criminal gang, all appear as instances of compensation. Each chase invokes a desire to recover a more significant earlier loss that persistently eludes the narrator. When Soupault’s narrator shadows Octave on a walk that ventures into the city’s industrial zone, recollections of the disaster of war gradually impinge upon his aleatory perambulations. His description evokes two men moving through the trenches together: The least noise was a catastrophe, the least breath a great terror. We walked in the eternal mud. Step by step we sank into the thickness of night, lost as if forever. I turned around several times to look at the way we had come but night alone was behind us. (80) In an article published in 2012, Catherine Howell identifies Last Nights of Paris as “a lyric celebration of the city as spectacle” (67). At times, the narrator indeed surrenders himself to the ocular pleasures of modernity. Observing the Eiffel Tower, he finds delight in “indefinitely varying her silhouette as if I were examining her through a kaleidoscope” (Soupault 30). Yet it is important to stress the role that shock plays in fissuring this veneer of spectacle, especially those evocations of the city that reveal an unnerving desensitisation to the more violent manifestations of the metropolis. Reading a newspaper, the narrator remarks that “the discovery of bags full of limbs, carefully sawed and chopped up” (23) signifies little more than “a commonplace crime” (22). Passing the banks of the Seine provokes “recollection of an evening I had spent lying on the parapet of the Pont Marie watching several lifesavers trying in vain to recover the body of an unfortunate suicide” (10). In his sensitivity to the unassimilable nature of trauma, Soupault intuits a phenomenon which literary trauma theory argues profoundly limits the text’s claim to representation, knowledge, and an autonomous subject. In this sense, Soupault appears less committed than Breton to the idea that the after-effects of shock might be consciously distilled into a form of praxis. Yet this prolongation of an unintegrated trauma still posits shock as a powerful vehicle to critique a society attempting to heal its wounds without addressing their underlying causes. This is typical of Surrealism’s efforts to “dramatize the physical and psychological trauma of a war that everyone wanted to forget so that it would not be swept away too quickly” (Lyford 4). Woman and Radical Madness In her 2007 study, Surrealist Masculinities, Amy Lyford focuses upon the regeneration and nation building project that characterised post-war France and argues that Surrealist tactics sought to dismantle an official discourse that promoted ideals of “robust manhood and female maternity” (4). Viewed against this backdrop, the trope of madness in Surrealism is central to the movement’s disruptive strategies. In Last Nights of Paris, a lingering madness simmers beneath the surface of the text like an undertow, while in other Surrealist texts the lauding of madness, specifically female hysteria, is much more explicit. Indeed, the objectification of the madwoman in Surrealism is among the most problematic aspects of its praxis of shock and one that raises questions over to what extent, if at all, Surrealism and feminism can be reconciled, leading some critics to define the movement as inherently misogynistic. While certainly not unfounded, this critique fails to answer why a broad spectrum of women artists have been drawn to the movement. By contrast, a growing body of work nuances the complexities of the “blinds spots” (Lusty 2) in Surrealism’s relationship with women. Contemporary studies like Natalya Lusty’s Surrealism, Feminism, Psychoanalysis and Katharine Conley’s earlier Automatic Woman both afford greater credit to Surrealism’s female practitioners in redefining their subject position in ways that trouble and unsettle the conventional understanding of women’s role in the movement. The creative and self-reflexive manipulation of madness, for example, proved pivotal to the achievements of Surrealist women. In her short autobiographical novella, Down Below (1944), Leonora Carrington recounts the disturbing true experience of her voyage into madness sparked by the internment of her partner and muse, fellow Surrealist Max Ernst, in a concentration camp in 1940. Committed to a sanatorium in Santander, Spain, Carrington was treated with the seizure inducing drug Cardiazol. Her text presents a startling case study of therapeutic maltreatment that is consistent with Bretonian Surrealism’s critique of the use of psycho-medical methods for the purposes of regulating and disciplining the individual. As well as vividly recalling her intense and frightening hallucinations, Down Below details the author’s descent into a highly paranoid state which, somewhat perversely, heightens her sense of agency and control over her environment. Unable to discern boundaries between her internal reality and that of the external world, Carrington develops a delusional and inflated sense of her ability to influence the city of Madrid: In the political confusion and the torrid heat, I convinced myself that Madrid was the world’s stomach and that I had been chosen for the task of restoring that digestive organ to health […] I believed that I was capable of bearing that dreadful weight and of drawing from it a solution for the world. The dysentery I suffered from later was nothing but the illness of Madrid taking shape in my intestinal tract. (12–13) In this way, Carrington’s extraordinarily visceral memoir embodies what can be described as the Surrealist woman’s “double allegiance” (Suleiman 5) to the praxis of shock. On the one hand, Down Below subversively harnesses the affective qualities of madness in order to manifest textual disturbances and to convey the author’s fierce rebellion against societal constraints. At the same time, the work reveals a more complex and often painful representational struggle inherent in occupying the position of both the subject experiencing madness and the narrator objectively recalling its events, displaying a tension not present in the work of the male Surrealists. The memoir concludes on an ambivalent note as Carrington describes finally becoming “disoccultized” of her madness, awakening to “the mystery with which I was surrounded and which they all seemed to take pleasure in deepening around me” (53). Notwithstanding its ambivalence, Down Below typifies the political and historical dimensions of Surrealism’s struggle against internal and external limits. Yet as early as 1966, Surrealist scholar J.H. Matthews was already cautioning against reaching that point where the term Surrealist “loses any meaning and becomes, as it is for too many, synonymous with ‘strange,’ ‘weird,’ or even ‘fanciful’” (5–6). To re-evaluate the praxis of shock in the Surrealist novel, then, is to seek to reinstate Surrealism as a movement that cannot be reduced to vague adjectives or to mere aesthetic principles. It is to view it as an active force passionately engaged with the pressing social, cultural, and political problems of its time. While the frequent nods to Surrealist methods in contemporary literary genealogies and creative urban research practices such as psychogeography are a testament to its continued allure, the growing failure to read Surrealism as political is one of the more contradictory symptoms of the expanding temporal distance from the catastrophic events from which the movement emerged. As it becomes increasingly common to draw links between disaster, creativity, and renewal, the shifting sands of the reception of Surrealism are a reminder of the need to resist domesticating movements born from such circumstances in ways that blunt their critical faculties and dull the awakening power of their praxis of shock. To do otherwise is to be left with little more than cheap thrills. References Aragon, Louis. Paris Peasant (1926). Trans. Simon Watson Taylor. Boston: Exact Change, 1994. Benjamin, Walter. “Surrealism: The Last Snapshot of the European Intelligentsia” (1929). Trans. Edmund Jephcott. Walter Benjamin Selected Writings, Volume 2, Part I, 1927–1930. Eds. Michael W. Jennings, Howard Eiland, and Gary Smith. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap P, 2005. Breton, André. “Manifesto of Surrealism” (1924). Manifestoes of Surrealism. Trans. Richard Seaver and Helen R. Lane. Ann Arbor, MI: U of Michigan P, 1990. ———. Nadja (1928). Trans. Richard Howard. New York: Grove P, 1960. Breton, André, and Philippe Soupault. The Magnetic Fields (1920). Trans. David Gascoyne. London: Atlas P, 1985. Carrington, Leonora. Down Below (1944). Chicago: Black Swan P, 1983. Cohen, Margaret. Profane Illumination: Walter Benjamin and the Paris of Surrealist Revolution. Berkeley, CA: U of California P, 1993. Conley, Katharine. Automatic Woman: The Representation of Woman in Surrealism. Lincoln, NE: U of Nebraska P, 1996. Coverley, Merlin. Psychogeography. Harpenden: Pocket Essentials, 2010. Foster, Hal. Compulsive Beauty. Cambridge, MA: MIT P, 1993. Gascoyne, David. “Introduction.” The Magnetic Fields (1920) by André Breton and Philippe Soupault. Trans. David Gascoyne. London: Atlas P, 1985. Howell, Catherine. “City of Night: Parisian Explorations.” Public: Civic Spectacle 45 (2012): 64–77. Lusty, Natalya. Surrealism, Feminism, Psychoanalysis. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2007. Lyford, Amy. Surrealist Masculinities: Gender Anxiety and the Aesthetics of Post-World War I Reconstruction in France. Berkeley, CA: U of California P, 2007. Masschelein, Anneleen. “Hand in Glove: Negative Indexicality in André Breton’s Nadja and W.G. Sebald’s Austerlitz.” Searching for Sebald: Photography after W.G. Sebald. Ed. Lise Patt. Los Angeles, CA: ICI P, 2007. 360–87. Matthews, J.H. Surrealism and the Novel. Ann Arbor, MI: U of Michigan P, 1996. Rasmussen, Mikkel Bolt. “The Situationist International, Surrealism and the Difficult Fusion of Art and Politics.” Oxford Art Journal 27.3 (2004): 365–87. Read, Peter. “Poets out of Uniform.” Book Review. The Times Literary Supplement. 15 Mar. 2002: 22. Shattuck, Roger. “Love and Laughter: Surrealism Reappraised.” The History of Surrealism. Ed. Maurice Nadeau. Trans. Richard Howard. New York: Penguin Books, 1978. 11–34. Solnit, Rebecca. Wanderlust: A History of Walking. London: Verso, 2002. Soupault, Philippe. Last Nights of Paris (1928). Trans. William Carlos Williams. Boston: Exact Change, 1992. Suleiman, Susan Robin. “Surrealist Black Humour: Masculine/Feminine.” Papers of Surrealism 1 (2003): 1–11. 20 Feb. 2013 ‹http://www.surrealismcentre.ac.uk/papersofsurrealism/journal1›.

About half way through Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s film Home (2009) the narrator describes the fall of the Rapa Nui, the indigenous people of the Easter Islands. The narrator posits that the Rapa Nui culture collapsed due to extensive environmental degradation brought about by large-scale deforestation. The Rapa Nui cut down their massive native forests to clear spaces for agriculture, to heat their dwellings, to build canoes and, most importantly, to move their enormous rock sculptures—the Moai. The disappearance of their forests led to island-wide soil erosion and the gradual disappearance of arable land. Caught in the vice of overpopulation but with rapidly dwindling basic resources and no trees to build canoes, they were trapped on the island and watched helplessly as their society fell into disarray. The sequence ends with the narrator’s biting remark: “The real mystery of the Easter Islands is not how its strange statues got there, we know now; it's why the Rapa Nui didn't react in time.” In their unrelenting desire for development, the Rapa Nui appear to have overlooked the role the environment plays in maintaining a society. The island’s Moai accompanying the sequence appear as memento mori, a lesson in the mortality of human cultures brought about by their own misguided and short-sighted practices. Arthus-Bertrand’s Home, a film composed almost entirely of aerial photographs, bears witness to present-day environmental degradation and climate change, constructing society as a fragile structure built upon and sustained by the environment. Home is a call to recognise how contemporary practices of post-industrial societies have come to shape the environment and how they may impact the habitability of Earth in the near future. Through reflexivity and a ritualised structure the text invites spectators to look at themselves in a new light and remake their self-image in the wake of global environmental risk by embracing new, alternative core practices based on balance and interconnectedness. Arthus-Bertrand frames climate change not as a burden, but as a moment of profound realisation of the potential for change and humans ability to create a desirable future through hope and our innate capacity for renewal. This article examines how Arthus-Bertrand’s ritualised construction of climate change aims to remake viewers’ perception of present-day environmental degradation and investigates Home’s place in contemporary climate change communication discourse. Climate change, in its capacity to affect us globally, is considered a world risk. The most recent peer-reviewed Synthesis Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change suggests that the concentration of atmospheric greenhouse gases has increased markedly since human industrialisation in the 18th century. Moreover, human activities, such as fossil fuel burning and agricultural practices, are “very likely” responsible for the resulting increase in temperature rise (IPPC 37). The increased global temperatures and the subsequent changing weather patterns have a direct and profound impact on the physical and biological systems of our planet, including shrinking glaciers, melting permafrost, coastal erosion, and changes in species distribution and reproduction patterns (Rosenzweig et al. 353). Studies of global security assert that these physiological changes are expected to increase the likelihood of humanitarian disasters, food and water supply shortages, and competition for resources thus resulting in a destabilisation of global safety (Boston et al. 1–2). Human behaviour and dominant practices of modernity are now on a path to materially impact the future habitability of our home, Earth. In contemporary post-industrial societies, however, climate change remains an elusive, intangible threat. Here, the Arctic-bound species forced to adapt to milder climates or the inhabitants of low-lying Pacific islands seeking refuge in mainland cities are removed from the everyday experience of the controlled and regulated environments of homes, offices, and shopping malls. Diverse research into the mediated and mediatised nature of the environment suggests that rather than from first-hand experiences and observations, the majority of our knowledge concerning the environment now comes from its representation in the mass media (Hamilton 4; Stamm et al. 220; Cox 2). Consequently the threat of climate change is communicated and constructed through the news media, entertainment and lifestyle programming, and various documentaries and fiction films. It is therefore the construction (the representation of the risk in various discourses) that shapes people’s perception and experience of the phenomenon, and ultimately influences behaviour and instigates social response (Beck 213). By drawing on and negotiating society’s dominant discourses, environmental mediation defines spectators’ perceptions of the human-nature relationship and subsequently their roles and responsibilities in the face of environmental risks. Maxwell Boykoff asserts that contemporary modern society’s mediatised representations of environmental degradation and climate change depict the phenomena as external to society’s primary social and economic concerns (449). Julia Corbett argues that this is partly because environmental protection and sustainable behaviour are often at odds with the dominant social paradigms of consumerism, economic growth, and materialism (175). Similarly, Rowan Howard-Williams suggests that most media texts, especially news, do not emphasise the link between social practices, such as consumerist behaviour, and their environmental consequences because they contradict dominant social paradigms (41). The demands contemporary post-industrial societies make on the environment to sustain economic growth, consumer culture, and citizens’ comfortable lives in air-conditioned homes and offices are often left unarticulated. While the media coverage of environmental risks may indeed have contributed to “critical misperceptions, misleading debates, and divergent understandings” (Boykoff 450) climate change possesses innate characteristics that amplify its perception in present-day post-industrial societies as a distant and impersonal threat. Climate change is characterised by temporal and spatial de-localisation. The gradual increase in global temperature and its physical and biological consequences are much less prominent than seasonal changes and hence difficult to observe on human time-scales. Moreover, while research points to the increased probability of extreme climatic events such as droughts, wild fires, and changes in weather patterns (IPCC 48), they take place over a wide range of geographical locations and no single event can be ultimately said to be the result of climate change (Maibach and Roser-Renouf 145). In addition to these observational obstacles, political partisanship, vested interests in the current status quo, and general resistance to profound change all play a part in keeping us one step removed from the phenomenon of climate change. The distant and impersonal nature of climate change coupled with the “uncertainty over consequences, diverse and multiple engaged interests, conflicting knowledge claims, and high stakes” (Lorenzoni et al. 65) often result in repression, rejection, and denial, removing the individual’s responsibility to act. Research suggests that, due to its unique observational obstacles in contemporary post-industrial societies, climate change is considered a psychologically distant event (Pawlik 559), one that is not personally salient due to the “perceived distance and remoteness [...] from one’s everyday experience” (O’Neill and Nicholson-Cole 370). In an examination of the barriers to behaviour change in the face of psychologically distant events, Robert Gifford argues that changing individuals’ perceptions of the issue-domain is one of the challenges of countering environmental inertia—the lack of initiative for environmentally sustainable social action (5). To challenge the status quo a radically different construction of the environment and the human-nature relationship is required to transform our perception of global environmental risks and ultimately result in environmentally consequential social action. Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s Home is a ritualised construction of contemporary environmental degradation and climate change which takes spectators on a rite of passage to a newfound understanding of the human-nature relationship. Transformation through re-imagining individuals’ roles, responsibilities, and practices is an intrinsic quality of rituals. A ritual charts a subjects path from one state of consciousness to the next, resulting in a meaningful change of attitudes (Deflem 8). Through a lifelong study of African rituals British cultural ethnographer Victor Turner refined his concept of rituals in a modern social context. Turner observed that rituals conform to a three-phased processural form (The Ritual Process 13–14). First, in the separation stage, the subjects are selected and removed from their fixed position in the social structure. Second, they enter an in-between and ambiguous liminal stage, characterised by a “partial or complete separation of the subject from everyday existence” (Deflem 8). Finally, imbued with a new perspective of the outside world borne out of the experience of reflexivity, liminality, and a cathartic cleansing, subjects are reintegrated into the social reality in a new, stable state. The three distinct stages make the ritual an emotionally charged, highly personal experience that “demarcates the passage from one phase to another in the individual’s life-cycle” (Turner, “Symbols” 488) and actively shapes human attitudes and behaviour. Adhering to the three-staged processural form of the ritual, Arthus-Bertrand guides spectators towards a newfound understanding of their roles and responsibilities in creating a desirable future. In the first stage—the separation—aerial photography of Home alienates viewers from their anthropocentric perspectives of the outside world. This establishes Earth as a body, and unearths spectators’ guilt and shame in relation to contemporary world risks. Aerial photography strips landscapes of their conventional qualities of horizon, scale, and human reference. As fine art photographer Emmet Gowin observes, “when one really sees an awesome, vast place, our sense of wholeness is reorganised [...] and the body seems always to diminish” (qtd. in Reynolds 4). Confronted with a seemingly infinite sublime landscape from above, the spectator’s “body diminishes” as they witness Earth’s body gradually taking shape. Home’s rushing rivers of Indonesia are akin to blood flowing through the veins and the Siberian permafrost seems like the texture of skin in extreme close-up. Arthus-Bertrand establishes a geocentric embodiment to force spectators to perceive and experience the environmental degradation brought about by the dominant social practices of contemporary post-industrial modernity. The film-maker visualises the maltreatment of the environment through suggested abuse of the Earth’s body. Images of industrial agricultural practices in the United States appear to leave scratches and scars on the landscape, and as a ship crosses the Arctic ice sheets of the Northwest Passage the boat glides like the surgeon’s knife cutting through the uppermost layer of the skin. But the deep blue water that’s revealed in the wake of the craft suggests a flesh and body now devoid of life, a suffering Earth in the wake of global climatic change. Arthus-Bertrand’s images become the sublime evidence of human intervention in the environment and the reflection of present-day industrialisation materially altering the face of Earth. The film-maker exploits spectators’ geocentric perspective and sensibility to prompt reflexivity, provide revelations about the self, and unearth the forgotten shame and guilt in having inadvertently caused excessive environmental degradation. Following the sequences establishing Earth as the body of the text Arthus-Bertrand returns spectators to their everyday “natural” environment—the city. Having witnessed and endured the pain and suffering of Earth, spectators now gaze at the skyscrapers standing bold and tall in the cityscape with disillusionment. The pinnacles of modern urban development become symbols of arrogance and exploitation: structures forced upon the landscape. Moreover, the images of contemporary cityscapes in Home serve as triggers for ritual reflexivity, allowing the spectator to “perceive the self [...] as a distanced ‘other’ and hence achieve a partial ‘self-transcendence’” (Beck, Comments 491). Arthus-Bertrand’s aerial photographs of Los Angeles, New York, and Tokyo fold these distinct urban environments into one uniform fusion of glass, metal, and concrete devoid of life. The uniformity of these cultural landscapes prompts spectators to add the missing element: the human. Suddenly, the homes and offices of desolate cityscapes are populated by none other than us, looking at ourselves from a unique vantage point. The geocentric sensibility the film-maker invoked with the images of the suffering Earth now prompt a revelation about the self as spectators see their everyday urban environments in a new light. Their homes and offices become blemishes on the face of the Earth: its inhabitants, including the spectators themselves, complicit in the excessive mistreatment of the planet. The second stage of the ritual allows Arthus-Bertrand to challenge dominant social paradigms of present day post-industrial societies and introduce new, alternative moral directives to govern our habits and attitudes. Following the separation, ritual subjects enter an in-between, threshold stage, one unencumbered by the spatial, temporal, and social boundaries of everyday existence. Turner posits that a subjects passage through this liminal stage is necessary to attain psychic maturation and successful transition to a new, stable state at the end of the ritual (The Ritual Process 97). While this “betwixt and between” (Turner, The Ritual Process 95) state may be a fleeting moment of transition, it makes for a “lived experience [that] transforms human beings cognitively, emotionally, and morally.” (Horvath et al. 3) Through a change of perceptions liminality paves the way toward meaningful social action. Home places spectators in a state of liminality to contrast geocentric and anthropocentric views. Arthus-Bertrand contrasts natural and human-made environments in terms of diversity. The narrator’s description of the “miracle of life” is followed by images of trees seemingly defying gravity, snow-covered summits among mountain ranges, and a whale in the ocean. Grandeur and variety appear to be inherent qualities of biodiversity on Earth, qualities contrasted with images of the endless, uniform rectangular greenhouses of Almeria, Spain. This contrast emphasises the loss of variety in human achievements and the monotony mass-production brings to the landscape. With the image of a fire burning atop a factory chimney, Arthus-Bertrand critiques the change of pace and distortion of time inherent in anthropocentric views, and specifically in contemporary modernity. Here, the flames appear to instantly eat away at resources that have taken millions of years to form, bringing anthropocentric and geocentric temporality into sharp contrast. A sequence showing a night time metropolis underscores this distinction. The glittering cityscape is lit by hundreds of lights in skyscrapers in an effort, it appears, to mimic and surpass daylight and thus upturn the natural rhythm of life. As the narrator remarks, in our present-day environments, “days are now the pale reflections of nights.” Arthus-Bertrand also uses ritual liminality to mark the present as a transitory, threshold moment in human civilisation. The film-maker contrasts the spectre of our past with possible visions of the future to mark the moment of now as a time when humanity is on the threshold of two distinct states of mind. The narrator’s descriptions of contemporary post-industrial society’s reliance on non-renewable resources and lack of environmentally sustainable agricultural practices condemn the past and warn viewers of the consequences of continuing such practices into the future. Exploring the liminal present Arthus-Bertrand proposes distinctive futurescapes for humankind. On the one hand, the narrator’s description of California’s “concentration camp style cattle farming” suggests that humankind will live in a future that feeds from the past, falling back on frames of horrors and past mistakes. On the other hand, the example of Costa Rica, a nation that abolished its military and dedicated the budget to environmental conservation, is recognition of our ability to re-imagine our future in the face of global risk. Home introduces myths to imbue liminality with the alternative dominant social paradigm of ecology. By calling upon deep-seated structures myths “touch the heart of society’s emotional, spiritual and intellectual consciousness” (Killingsworth and Palmer 176) and help us understand and come to terms with complex social, economic, and scientific phenomena. With the capacity to “pattern thought, beliefs and practices,” (Maier 166) myths are ideal tools in communicating ritual liminality and challenging contemporary post-industrial society’s dominant social paradigms. The opening sequence of Home, where the crescent Earth is slowly revealed in the darkness of space, is an allusion to creation: the genesis myth. Accompanied only by a gentle hum our home emerges in brilliant blue, white, and green-brown encompassing most of the screen. It is as if darkness and chaos disintegrated and order, life, and the elements were created right before our eyes. Akin to the Earthrise image taken by the astronauts of Apollo 8, Home’s opening sequence underscores the notion that our home is a unique spot in the blackness of space and is defined and circumscribed by the elements. With the opening sequence Arthus-Bertrand wishes to impart the message of interdependence and reliance on elements—core concepts of ecology. Balance, another key theme in ecology, is introduced with an allusion to the Icarus myth in a sequence depicting Dubai. The story of Icarus’s fall from the sky after flying too close to the sun is a symbolic retelling of hubris—a violent pride and arrogance punishable by nemesis—destruction, which ultimately restores balance by forcing the individual back within the limits transgressed (Littleton 712). In Arthus-Bertrand’s portrayal of Dubai, the camera slowly tilts upwards on the Burj Khalifa tower, the tallest human-made structure ever built. The construction works on the tower explicitly frame humans against the bright blue sky in their attempt to reach ever further, transgressing their limitations much like the ill-fated Icarus. Arthus-Bertrand warns that contemporary modernity does not strive for balance or moderation, and with climate change we may have brought our nemesis upon ourselves. By suggesting new dominant paradigms and providing a critique of current maxims, Home’s retelling of myths ultimately sees spectators through to the final stage of the ritual. The last phase in the rite of passage “celebrates and commemorates transcendent powers,” (Deflem 8) marking subjects’ rebirth to a new status and distinctive perception of the outside world. It is at this stage that Arthus-Bertrand resolves the emotional distress uncovered in the separation phase. The film-maker uses humanity’s innate capacity for creation and renewal as a cathartic cleansing aimed at reconciling spectators’ guilt and shame in having inadvertently exacerbated global environmental degradation. Arthus-Bertrand identifies renewable resources as the key to redeeming technology, human intervention in the landscape, and finally humanity itself. Until now, the film-maker pictured modernity and technology, evidenced in his portrayal of Dubai, as synonymous with excess and disrespect for the interconnectedness and balance of elements on Earth. The final sequence shows a very different face of technology. Here, we see a mechanical sea-snake generating electricity by riding the waves off the coast of Scotland and solar panels turning towards the sun in the Sahara desert. Technology’s redemption is evidenced in its ability to imitate nature—a move towards geocentric consciousness (a lesson learned from the ritual’s liminal stage). Moreover, these human-made structures, unlike the skyscrapers earlier in the film, appear a lot less invasive in the landscape and speak of moderation and union with nature. With the above examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity can shed the greed that drove it to dig deeper and deeper into the Earth to acquire non-renewable resources such as oil and coal, what the narrator describes as “treasures buried deep.” The incorporation of principles of ecology, such as balance and interconnectedness, into humanity’s behaviour ushers in reconciliation and ritual cleansing in Home. Following the description of the move toward renewable resources, the narrator reveals that “worldwide four children out of five attend school, never has learning been given to so many human beings” marking education, innovation, and creativity as the true inexhaustible resources on Earth. Lastly, the description of Antarctica in Home is the essence of Arthus-Bertrand’s argument for our innate capacity to create, not simply exploit and destroy. Here, the narrator describes the continent as possessing “immense natural resources that no country can claim for itself, a natural reserve devoted to peace and science, a treaty signed by 49 nations has made it a treasure shared by all humanity.” Innovation appears to fuel humankind’s transcendence to a state where it is capable of compassion, unification, sharing, and finally creating treasures. With these examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity has an innate capacity for creative energy that awaits authentic expression and can turn humankind from destroyer to creator. In recent years various risk communication texts have explicitly addressed climate change, endeavouring to instigate environmentally consequential social action. Home breaks discursive ground among them through its ritualistic construction which seeks to transform spectators’ perception, and in turn roles and responsibilities, in the face of global environmental risks. Unlike recent climate change media texts such as An Inconvenient Truth (2006), The 11th Hour (2007), The Age of Stupid (2009), Carbon Nation (2010) and Earth: The Operator’s Manual (2011), Home eludes simple genre classification. On the threshold of photography and film, documentary and fiction, Arthus-Bertrand’s work is best classified as an advocacy film promoting public debate and engagement with a universal concern—the state of the environment. The film’s website, available in multiple languages, contains educational material, resources to organise public screenings, and a link to GoodPlanet.info: a website dedicated to environmentalism, including legal tools and initiatives to take action. The film-maker’s approach to using Home as a basis for education and raising awareness corresponds to Antonio Lopez’s critique of contemporary mass-media communications of global risks. Lopez rebukes traditional forms of mediatised communication that place emphasis on the imparting of knowledge and instead calls for a participatory, discussion-driven, organic media approach, akin to a communion or a ritual (106). Moreover, while texts often place a great emphasis on the messenger, for instance Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth, Leonardo DiCaprio in The 11th Hour, or geologist Dr. Richard Alley in Earth: The Operator’s Manual, Home’s messenger remains unseen—the narrator is only identified at the very end of the film among the credits. The film-maker’s decision to forego a central human character helps dissociate the message from the personality of the messenger which aids in establishing and maintaining the geocentric sensibility of the text. Finally, the ritual’s invocation and cathartic cleansing of emotional distress enables Home to at once acknowledge our environmentally destructive past habits and point to a hopeful, environmentally sustainable future. While The Age of Stupid mostly focuses on humanity’s present and past failures to respond to an imminent environmental catastrophe, Carbon Nation, with the tagline “A climate change solutions movie that doesn’t even care if you believe in climate change,” only explores the potential future business opportunities in turning towards renewable resources and environmentally sustainable practices. The three-phased processural form of the ritual allows for a balance of backward and forward-looking, establishing the possibility of change and renewal in the face of world risk. The ritual is a transformative experience. As Turner states, rituals “interrupt the flow of social life and force a group to take cognizance of its behaviour in relation to its own values, and even question at times the value of those values” (“Dramatic Ritual” 82). Home, a ritualised media text, is an invitation to look at our world, its dominant social paradigms, and the key element within that world—ourselves—with new eyes. It makes explicit contemporary post-industrial society’s dependence on the environment, highlights our impact on Earth, and reveals our complicity in bringing about a contemporary world risk. The ritual structure and the self-reflexivity allow Arthus-Bertrand to transform climate change into a personally salient issue. This bestows upon the spectator the responsibility to act and to reconcile the spectre of the past with the vision of the future.Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Dr. Angi Buettner whose support, guidance, and supervision has been invaluable in preparing this article. 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