boston/providence

I am interested in how verbal conversations do not always make sense, especially when more than two parties are involved. In a place like the commuter rail, the conversations occur in a public sphere, and their participants are probably aware that whatever they are saying can and is heard by all the other passengers around them.

The commuter rail is an unusual space as it is just quiet enough that whatever people say can be heard by all the other adjacent passengers. It’s not like the T/subway that drones out conversations of a group of people. So, whenever people are talking with a group, their voices are broadcasted to the unwilling audience. Here, the place influences the conversation, what they talk about and how they talk about them. It is also an interesting transitional space, where most conversations do not directly relate to the occurring experience, i.e. most people are not talking about the commuter rail while riding the commuter rail. The train is incidental, and not mentioned, except when talking about their trip or going to Boston. A few different people mentioned going to Boston, or what their plans are when they get to Boston, or even “I’m on the train, I will call you back.” But this place of transition is only seen as a means to an end. No one comments on the passing scenery or the time spent sitting inside. One pair of women did talk about the Washington DC Metro, but they were also more conscious of their conversation and talked about very impersonal topics. The group of guys going to Boston (4-5 young guys in their 20s) to get drunk on St. Patrick’s Day were very open about their personal lives, about drinking excessively, abut the girls in their lives, about having sex, typical “macho” topics for college students. The old women talked about more socially acceptable topics: the symphony, knitting, the Washington DC subway. All very distant, impersonal topics. Their voices were loud, however, and kept filtering into and out of the macho guy conversation, although they sat 3 rows to the left of me, while the guys sat directly in front of me.

This was a study about the nature of conversations in public spaces, where people are not consciously trying to get together for a conversation, like in a coffee shop or a bar. So, they are trapped, in a sense, for a set amount of time, sitting next to someone they know (or not know, especially on the weekday morning trains) but also sitting by total strangers. Most of the conversation, when recorded and transcribed, do not make mush sense. They are non sequential and only refer to people/places without mentioning them specifically. So, if the two women talked about stitches—and I kept thinking they are talking about body stitches and not knitting—I was misinterpreting their conversation because they never directly mentioned what they were talking about. Also, with more than one conversation going on at the same time, my ears would focus on one and I would write down fragments from different conversations in a row. So, my notes had a sentence spoken by the old ladies right after a sentence spoken by the macho guys. When looking at the notes, I wonder how I should make sense of these random phrases: leave them random, for the reader to make connection of them, or should I label them with their character/narrator. But, even within conversations, people kept switching topics. One minute they are talking about the metro, the next about stitches. One minute they were talking about drinking excessively, the next about 5 star hotels in Iowa, the next about building a house that is 14 stories high but only 16 feet by 16 feet in area.

So, the conversation kept changing subjects and times, navigating among past party stories, present goals of getting to Boston, and silly ideas for the future.

I like these short glimpses into people’s lives, and how they really describe the characters without giving away too much. They are short vignettes, evocative details, that might be incidental and random but more real than if I started asking these people questions. The characters were (obviously) not aware of my recording and spoke in a natural, unassuming way to their friends. This is real, and thus interesting as an addition with my photographs. The photographs are “real” only by framing them do I make them “unreal.” In the case of these eavesdropped conversations, the people did a good job off making their conversations strange and unsequential, even without my editing or fragmenting their words.

Also, it seems that since it was St. Patrick’s Day more people than usual were taking the train with their friends. This was the 9:30 am train, and not the very early train with only commuters who are mostly silent. Even on the early morning commuter train, there were always some people who knew each other—friends would join office mates maybe several stops later, and then sit together and chat for the entire hour. I used to take the train everyday and usually tried to ignore some of the annoying voices by drowning them out with headphones. Still, the conversations between working adults were very different than the conversations between college buddies going on a drinking fest on St. Patrick’s day.

There is definitely something interesting in being a voyeur, a non-active participant in a drama that is playing in front of me. Except that there is no “drama’ but an everyday melody of conversations and occurrences that are unimportant. They become interesting if I start trying to paint a picture of who that person is talking to (his wife? When trying to buy a house), or what exactly they were describing (the wedding dress) one sided conversations are different than conversations with a group of friends. So, limiting myself to this one place—the commuter rail—and trying to understand the diverse range of conversation and stories within this everyday context is a very insightful project. A lot of people are interested in other people’s conversations: conversations they are not part of but can make out the details of. As the old saying goes, “to be a fly on the wall” listening but unnoticed.

The voices go in and out of focus. The verbal conversations do not make much sense when are taken out of their context. They are “found images”—just as my film was made of found image or my photos are incidental. I think of a scenario and go on-site to react to what is going on, rather than to pro actively try to construct something prescribed and artificial. I want to work within certain parameters—one train ride, one day, a series of errands in the afternoon—and pick up interacting snippets of conversation, sometimes between strangers, other times between people who know each other fairly well but are in an unusual setting.

I like being aware, noticing, and documenting these found situations. I am not actively asking questions, which would make the conversation contrived/artificial, and steer it into a focused, biased direction. Strangers talking to a stranger will probably not be themselves. But, guys talking to their buddies they are more prone to be. This is a very personal public space where I can hear everything. The groups are small—2-4 people—there are friends talking, people on cell phones, and mostly the train’s silence broken by comments. I am thinking, not participating. And, I can’t make them say anything. I can’t even seek out people who will talk: One the way back I tried to sit by a group of teenagers (four girls and two guys) who initially acted like they would be loud and talkative. They were dressed in trendy clothes: green fishnets for St. Patrick’s’ day with green flip flops, a sideways hat propped just so. But, as soon as they sat down on the train and exchanged some comments about stealing a pair of sun glasses, a few remarks about a hat they had bought, and a couple sentences about a movie they were trying to figure out, they fell asleep exhausted after a whole day spent in Boston. So, excitement doesn’t occur where you expect it, and juicy eavesdropping cannot be forced. It requires patience and a nonchalant readiness to listen.

I’m an observer. People are streaming by, walking through. No one really looks up or notices those around them.

People pass and I watch