Mass Tourism

User Generated

onanananan

Writing

Description

I want a 200 words summary from Chapter Two ( Mass Tourism) pp.31-48

Unformatted Attachment Preview

‘The original Tourist Gaze was a classic, marking out a new land to study and appreciate. This new edition extends into fresh areas with the same passion and insight of the object. Even more essential reading!’ Nigel Thrift, Vice-Chancellor, Warwick University This new edition of a seminal text restructures, reworks and remakes the groundbreaking previous versions making this book even more relevant for tourism students, researchers and designers. ‘The tourist gaze’ remains an agenda setting theory. Packed full of fascinating insights this major new edition intelligently broadens its theoretical and geographical scope to provide an account which responds to various critiques. The Tourist Gaze 3.0 Theory, Culture & Society ‘Don’t leave home without the 3rd edition! With new chapters and rigorous restructuring, this classic guide to critical tourism studies becomes even more useful to scholars and students across the social sciences and humanities.’ Caren Kaplan, Professor, Cultural Studies/Science and Technology Studies, UC Davis John Urry and Jonas Larsen T C The Tourist Gaze 3.0 S TC S All chapters have been significantly revised to include up-to-date empirical data, new case studies and fresh concepts. Three new chapters have been added which explore: This book is essential reading for all involved in contemporary tourism, leisure, cultural policy, design, economic regeneration, heritage and the arts. John Urry is Distinguished Professor of Sociology, Lancaster University, UK. Jonas Larsen is Lecturer, Department of Environmental, Social and Spatial Change, Roskilde University, Denmark. Urry and Larsen • photography and digitization • embodied performances • risks and alternative futures. The Tourist Gaze 3.0 Cover image © Jutta Klee/CORBIS urry_TCS_tourist gaze_3E_ aw.indd 1-3 23/06/2011 11:42 ‘Don’t leave home without the 3rd edition! With new chapters and rigorous restructuring, this classic guide to critical tourism studies becomes even more useful to scholars and students across the social sciences and humanities. The Tourist Gaze 3.0 takes us on a detailed tour of the major concepts and approaches to one of the world’s largest culture industries. With fresh insights and new materials, this collaboratively written revision will immediately become required reading for those who pay attention to the world of travel, mobility, and visual culture.’ Caren Kaplan, Professor, Cultural Studies/Science and Technology Studies, UC Davis ‘The original Tourist Gaze was a classic, marking out a new land to study and appreciate. This new edition extends into fresh areas with the same passion and insight of the object. Even more essential reading!’ Nigel Thrift, Vice-Chancellor, Warwick University ‘The first edition of The Tourist Gaze was a landmark in the theoretical development of tourism studies, and it inspired waves of research and often fierce debates that have reverberated over the following two decades. This new edition of the book is not only thoroughly revised but has also been given renewed cutting edge, particularly by the addition of chapters on risk and on digital photography. At the same time, our understanding of the tourist gaze has been reframed and broadened by the infusion of ideas about mobility and embodiment, making this book an essential read for every tourism scholar.’ Allan Williams, Professor of Tourism Management, School of Management, University of Surrey ‘A great classic remade to capture the lives of tourists in the 21st century. For two decades The Tourist Gaze has been one of the most influential books in tourist research. This new and thoroughly reworked version meets the challenges of a changing world of tourism and engages the lively contemporary debates in the field.’ Orvar Löfgren, Professor of European Ethnology at the University of Lund 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 1 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM ‘This thoroughly updated edition of John Urry’s seminal contribution to tourist studies will engage a whole new generation of scholars. The extensive addition of new material absorbs and expands upon new insights from within this shifting field of study to develop an enhanced understanding of the tourist gaze. The fresh input of Jonas Larsen adds a renewed vibrancy to the debates which are, as ever, communicated in a brisk, inclusive and lucid fashion, and will ensure that The Tourist Gaze book retains its relevance for students and academics across the world.’ Tim Edensor, Reader in Cultural Geography, Manchester Metropolitan University ‘The Tourist Gaze has been the most influential book on tourism in the last twenty years. This extensively revised edition serves to remind us both why the original was so important and engages with the massive developments in the literature it helped to spawn. The impressive updating in response to theoretical debates is matched only by the response to the profound shifts in tourism itself, its markets, technologies and organisation, which indicates how much value still lies in the arguments made.’ Mike Crang, Reader in Geography, Durham University 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 2 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM The Tourist Gaze 3.0 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 3 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM Theory, Culture & Society Theory, Culture & Society caters for the resurgence of interest in culture within contemporary social science and the humanities. Building on the heritage of classical social theory, the book series examines ways in which this tradition has been reshaped by a new generation of theorists. It also publishes theoretically informed analyses of everyday life, popular culture and new intellectual movements. EDITOR: Mike Featherstone, Nottingham Trent University SERIES EDITORIAL BOARD Roy Boyne, University of Durham Nicholas Gane, University of York Scott Lash, Goldsmiths College, University of London Roland Robertson, University of Aberdeen Couze Venn, Nottingham Trent University THE TCS CENTRE The Theory, Culture & Society book series, the journals Theory, Culture & Society and Body & Society, and related conference, seminar and postgraduate programmes operate from the TCS Centre at NottinghamTrent University. For further details of the TCS Centre’s activities please contact: The TCS Centre School of Arts and Humanities Nottingham Trent University Clifton Lane, Nottingham, NG11 8NS, UK e-mail: tcs@ntu.ac.uk web: http://sagepub.net/tcs/ Recent volumes include: Education and Cultural Citizenship Nick Stevenson Inhuman Nature Nigel Clark Race, Sport and Politics Ben Carrington Intensive Culture Scott Lash The Media City Scott McQuire 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 4 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM The Tourist Gaze 3.0 John Urry and Jonas Larsen 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 5 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM © John Urry and Jonas Larsen 2011 First edition first published 1990 Second edition first published 2002 (reprinted 2002, 2003, 2005 twice, 2006, 2008, 2009 twice, 2010) This edition published 2011 Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form, or by any means, only with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers. SAGE Publications Ltd 1 Oliver’s Yard 55 City Road London EC1Y 1SP SAGE Publications Inc. 2455 Teller Road Thousand Oaks, California 91320 SAGE Publications India Pvt Ltd B 1/I 1 Mohan Cooperative Industrial Area Mathura Road, Post Bag 7 New Delhi 110 044 SAGE Publications Asia-Pacific Pte Ltd 33 Pekin Street #02-01 Far East Square Singapore 048763 Library of Congress Control Number: 2010940108 British Library Cataloguing in Publication data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-84920-376-0 ISBN 978-1-84920-377-7 (pbk) Typeset by C&M Digitals (P) Ltd, Chennai, India Printed in India by Replika Press, Pvt, Ltd. Printed on paper from sustainable resource 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 6 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM Contents List of Figures viii About the Authors ix Preface x Preface to the Second Edition xi Preface to 3.0 xii 1 Theories 1 2 Mass Tourism 31 3 Economies 49 4 Working under the Gaze 75 5 Changing Tourist Cultures 97 6 Places, Buildings and Design 119 7 Vision and Photography 155 8 Performances 189 9 Risks and Futures 217 Bibliography 241 Index 264 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 7 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM List of Figures 1.1 The tourist gaze in Bali, Indonesia 1.2 Informal township, Soweto 1.3 1950s American cars re-forming the place-image of Cuba 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 6.5 The Venetian experience, Las Vegas ‘New Orleans’ at the Trafford Centre, Manchester The Little Mermaid in Shanghai Expo 2010 The restoration of ‘colonial’ Havana United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Washington, DC 9 26 27 121 131 134 136 138 7.1 Gazing on the screen 7.2 Mobile phone photography 182 183 8.1 Sightseeing and soundscapes 8.2 Performing the family gaze 8.3 The collective gaze performed on a guided tour 200 210 212 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 8 09/06/2011 11:00:57 AM About the Authors John Urry graduated with a BA/MA in Economics and a PhD in Sociology from Cambridge. He has since worked at Lancaster University where he has been Head of Department, Founding Dean of the Social Sciences Faculty and University Dean of Research. He is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, Founding Academician, UK Academy of Social Sciences, Member (1992) and Chair RAE Panels (1996, 2001). He has published 40 books and special issues his work is translated into 18 languages, and he has lectured in 30 countries. He is currently Director of the Centre for Mobilities Research at Lancaster. Recent books include: Mobilities (Polity, 2007); After the Car (Polity, 2009); Mobile Lives (Routledge, 2010); Climate Change and Society (Polity, 2011) as well as The Tourist Gaze 3.0 (Sage, 2011). Jonas Larsen is a senior lecturer in Geography at Roskilde University, Denmark. He is interested in mobility, tourism and media. He has published many articles in tourism, geography and mobility journals and co-authored Performing Tourist Places (Ashgate, 2004); Mobilities, Networks, Geographies (Ashgate, 2006) and Tourism, Performance and the Everyday: Consuming the Orient (Routledge, 2010). 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 9 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM Preface I am very grateful for the advice, encouragement and assistance of the following, especially those who have provided me with tourist gems from around the world: Paul Bagguley, Nick Buck, Peter Dickens, Paul Heelas, Mark Hilton, Scott Lash, Michelle Lowe, Celia Lury, Jane Mark-Lawson, David Morgan, Ian Rickson, Chris Rojek, Mary Rose, Peter Saunders, Dan Shapiro, Rob Shields, Hermann Schwengel, John Towner, Sylvia Walby, John Walton and Alan Warde. I am also grateful to professionals working in the tourism and hospitality industry who responded to my queries with much information and advice. Some interviews reported here were conducted under the auspices of the ESRC Initiative on the Changing Urban and Regional System. I am grateful to that Initiative in first prompting me to take holiday-making ‘seriously’. John Urry Lancaster, December 1989 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 10 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM Preface to the Second Edition This new edition has maintained the structure of the first edition except for the addition of a new chapter (8) on ‘Globalising the Gaze’. The other seven chapters have been updated in terms of data, the incorporation of relevant new studies and some better illustrations. I am very grateful for the extensive research assistance and informed expertise that has been provided by Viv Cuthill for this new edition. I am also grateful to Mike Featherstone for originally prompting a book on tourism, and Chris Rojek who suggested this second edition as well as for collaboration on our co-edited Touring Cultures. Over the past decade I have supervised various PhDs at Lancaster on issues of tourism, travel and mobility. I have learnt much from these doctorates and especially from the conversations about the ongoing work. I would especially like to thank the following, some of whom commented very helpfully on Chapter 8: Alexandra Arellano, Javier Caletrio, Viv Cuthill, Saolo Cwerner, Monica Degen, Tim Edensor, Hernan Gutiérrez Sagastume, Juliet Jain, Jonas Larsen, Neil Lewis, Chia-ling Lai, Richard Sharpley, Jo Stanley and Joyce Yeh. I have also benefited from many discussions with the MA students who have taken my ‘Tourist Gaze’ module over the past decade. Lancaster colleagues with whom I have discussed these topics (some also making very helpful comments on Chapter 8) include Sara Ahmed, Gordon Clark, Carol Crawshaw, Bülent Diken, AnneMarie Fortier, Robin Grove-White, Kevin Hetherington, Vincent Kaufmann, Phil Macnaghten, Colin Pooley, Katrin Schneeberger and Mimi Sheller. Working on graduate matters in the Sociology Department with Pennie Drinkall and Claire O’Donnell has been a pleasure over the past few years. John Urry Lancaster, April 2001 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 11 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM Preface to 3.0 The world of tourism is in constant flux and tourism theory needs to be on the move to capture such changes. This third edition of The Tourist Gaze radically restructures, reworks and expands the two first editions to make this book relevant for tourism researchers, students, planners and designers in the twenty-first century. There are many changes to the first two editions. Jonas Larsen, as co-author, has brought fresh eyes on the book. The original chapters have been thoroughly updated. Outdated data and studies have been deleted, new studies and theoretical concepts have been incorporated and the concept of the tourist gaze receives more theoretical consideration, including its ‘darker’ sides. Three new chapters examine the tourist gaze in relation to photography and digitisation, recent analyses of embodied performances within tourism theory and research, and the various risks of tourism, including global warming and peak oil, that problematise the desirability and future of the globalising tourist gaze. We are very grateful for the inspiration, help and assistance in producing this new edition of The Tourist Gaze. We would particularly like to thank Jørgen Ole Bærenholdt, Monika Büscher, Javier Caletrio, Beckie Coleman, Anne Cronin, Viv Cuthill, Monica Degen, Kingsley Dennis, Pennie Drinkall, Tim Edensor, Michael Haldrup, Kevin Hannam, Allison Hui, Michael Hviid Jacobsen, Juliet Jain, Jennie Germann Molz, Mette Sandbye, Mimi Sheller, Rob Shields, David Tyfield, Amy Urry, Tom Urry, Sylvia Walby and Laura Watts. Photos were taken by Amy Urry and ourselves. John Urry, Lancaster Jonas Larsen, Roskilde 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 12 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM ‘To remain stationary in these times of change, when all the world is on the move, would be a crime. Hurrah for the Trip – the cheap, cheap Trip.’ (Thomas Cook in 1854, quoted in Brendon, 1991: 65) ‘A view? Oh a view! How delightful a view is!’ (Miss Bartlett, in A Room with a View, Forster, 1955: 8, orig. 1908) ‘[T]he camera and tourism are two of the uniquely modern ways of defining reality.’ (Horne, 1984: 21) ‘For the twentieth-century tourist, the world has become one large department store of countrysides and cities.’ (Schivelbusch, 1986: 197) ‘It’s funny, isn’t it, how every traveller is a tourist except one’s self?’ (an Edwardian skit, quoted in Brendon, 1991: 188) ‘Since Thomas Cook’s first excursion train it is as if a magician’s wand had been passed over the face of the globe.’ (The Excursionist, June 1897, quoted in Ring, 2000: 83) ‘[The tourists] pay for their freedom; the right to disregard native concerns and feelings, the right to spin their own web of meanings. … The world is the tourist’s oyster … to be lived pleasurably – and thus given meaning.’ (Bauman, 1993: 241) ‘Going by railroad, I do not consider travelling at all; it is merely being “sent” to a place, and no different from being a parcel.’ (John Ruskin, quoted in Wang, 2000: 179) ‘Wow, that’s so postcard!’ (Visitor seeing Victoria Falls, quoted in Osborne, 2000: 79) 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 13 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM 00-Urry & Larsen-4212-Prelims.indd 14 09/06/2011 11:01:00 AM 1 Theories The Importance of Tourism The clinic was probably the first attempt to order a science on the exercise and decisions of the gaze … the medical gaze was also organized in a new way. First, it was no longer the gaze of any observer, but that of a doctor supported and justified by an institution. … Moreover, it was a gaze that was not bound by the narrow grid of structure … but that could and should grasp colours, variations, tiny anomalies … (Foucault, 1976: 89) The subject of this book would appear to have nothing whatsoever to do with the serious world of medicine and the medical gaze that concerns Foucault. This is a book about pleasure, about holidays, tourism and travel, about how and why for short periods people leave their normal place of work and residence. It is about consuming goods and services which are in some sense unnecessary. They are consumed because they supposedly generate pleasurable experiences which are different from those typically encountered in everyday life. And yet at least a part of that experience is to gaze upon or view a set of different scenes, of landscapes or townscapes which are out of the ordinary. When we ‘go away’ we look at the environment with interest and curiosity. It speaks to us in ways we appreciate, or at least we anticipate that it will do so. In other words, we gaze at what we encounter. This gaze is as socially organised and systematised, as is the gaze of the medic. Of course it is of a different order in that it is not a gaze confined to professionals ‘supported and justified by an institution’. And yet even in the production of ‘unnecessary’ pleasure many professional experts help to construct and develop one’s gaze as a tourist. The concept of the gaze highlights that looking is a learned ability and that the pure and innocent eye is a myth. What the medic gaze saw, and made visible, was not a simple pre-existing reality simply waiting ‘out there’ according to Foucault. Instead it was an epistemic field, constructed linguistically as much as visually. Seeing is what 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 1 09/06/2011 11:01:02 AM The Tourist Gaze the human eye does. Gazing refers to the ‘discursive determinations’, of socially constructed seeing or ‘scopic regimes’. Foster refers to ‘how we are able to see, allowed or made to see, and how we see this seeing or the unseen herein’ (1988: ix). To depict vision as natural or the product of atomised individuals naturalises its social and historical nature, and the power relations of looking. Just like language, one’s eyes are socio-culturally framed and there are various ‘ways of seeing’. ‘We never look just at one thing; we are always looking at the relation between things and ourselves’ (Berger, 1972: 9). People gaze upon the world through a particular filter of ideas, skills, desires and expectations, framed by social class, gender, nationality, age and education. Gazing is a performance that orders, shapes and classifies, rather than reflects the world. Jenks maintains: The world is not pre-formed, waiting to be ‘seen’ by the ‘extro-spection’ of the ‘naked eye’. There is nothing ‘out-there’ intrinsically formed, interesting, good or beautiful, as our dominant cultural outlook would suggest. Vision is skilled cultural practice. (1995: 10, our italics) Gazing at particular sights is conditioned by personal experiences and memories and framed by rules and styles, as well as by circulating images and texts of this and other places. Such ‘frames’ are critical resources, techniques, cultural lenses that potentially enable tourists to see the physical forms and material spaces before their eyes as ‘interesting, good or beautiful’. They are not the property of mere sight. And without these lenses the beautiful order found in nature or the built world would be very different. These different ways of seeing have many consequences for physical and built worlds. This book, then, is about how in different societies and especially within different social groups in diverse historical periods the tourist gaze changes and develops. We elaborate on processes by which the gaze is constructed and reinforced, and consider who or what authorises it, what its consequences are for the ‘places’ which are its object and how it interrelates with other social practices. The ‘tourist gaze’ is not a matter of individual psychology but of socially patterned and learnt ‘ways of seeing’ (Berger, 1972). It is a vision constructed through mobile images and representational technologies. Like the medical gaze, the power of the visual gaze within modern tourism is tied into, and enabled by, various technologies, including camcorders, film, TV, cameras and digital images. There is no single tourist gaze as such. It varies by society, by social group and by historical period. Such gazes are constructed through 2 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 2 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM Theories difference. By this we mean not merely that there is no universal experience that is true for all tourists at all times. There are many ways of gazing within tourism, and tourists look at ‘difference’ differently. This is in part because tourist gazes are structured according to class, gender, ethnicity and age. Moreover, the gaze in any historical period is constructed in relationship to its opposite, to nontourist forms of social experience and consciousness. What makes a particular tourist gaze depends upon what it is contrasted with; what the forms of non-tourist experience happen to be. The gaze therefore presupposes a system of social activities and signs which locate the particular tourist practices, not in terms of some intrinsic characteristics, but through the contrasts implied with non-tourist social practices, particularly those based within home and paid work. Tourism, holidaymaking and travel are more significant social phenomena than most commentators have considered. On the face of it there could not be a more trivial subject for a book. And indeed since social scientists have had plenty of difficulty in explaining weightier topics, such as work or politics, it might be thought that they would have great difficulties in accounting for more trivial phenomena such as holiday-making. However, there are interesting parallels with the study of deviance. This involves the investigation of bizarre and idiosyncratic social practices which happen to be defined as deviant in some societies but not necessarily in others. The assumption is that the investigation of deviance can reveal interesting and significant aspects of ‘normal’ societies. Just why various activities are treated as deviant can illuminate how societies operate more generally. This book is based on a similar analysis applying to tourism. Such practices involve the notion of ‘departure’, of a limited breaking with established routines and practices of everyday life and allowing one’s senses to engage with a set of stimuli that contrast with the everyday and mundane. By considering the typical objects of the tourist gaze one can use these to make sense of elements of the wider society with which they are contrasted. In other words, to consider how social groups construct their tourist gaze is a good way of getting at just what is happening in the ‘normal society’. We can use the fact of difference to interrogate the normal through investigating typical forms of tourism. Thus rather than being a trivial subject, tourism is significant in its ability to reveal aspects of normal practices which might otherwise remain opaque. Opening up the workings of the social world often requires the use of counter-intuitive and surprising methodologies; as in this case the investigation of the ‘departures’ involved in the tourist gaze. 3 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 3 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM The Tourist Gaze Although we insist on the historical, geographical and sociological variations in the gaze, there are some minimal characteristics of the social practices which are conventionally described as ‘tourism’. We set these out to provide a baseline for more historical, sociological, and global analyses developed later. l 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Tourism is a leisure activity which presupposes its opposite, namely regulated and organised work. It is one manifestation of how work and leisure are organised as separate and regulated spheres of social practice in ‘modern’ societies. Indeed, acting as a tourist is one of the defining characteristics of being ‘modern’ and is bound up with major transformations in paid work. This has come to be organised within particular places and to occur for regularised periods of time. Tourist relationships arise from a movement of people to, and their stay in, various destinations. This necessarily involves some movement through space, that is, the journeys and periods of stay in a new place or places. The journey and stay are to, and in, sites outside the normal places of residence and work. Periods of residence elsewhere are of a short-term and temporary nature. There is intention to return ‘home’ within a relatively short period of time. The places gazed upon are for purposes not directly connected with paid work and they normally offer some distinctive contrasts with work (both paid and unpaid). A substantial proportion of the population of modern societies engages in such tourist practices; new socialised forms of provision are developed in order to cope with the mass character of the gaze of tourists (as opposed to the individual character of ‘travel’). Places are chosen to be gazed upon because there is anticipation, especially through daydreaming and fantasy, of intense pleasures, either on a different scale or involving different senses from those customarily encountered. Such anticipation is constructed and sustained through a variety of non-tourist technologies, such as film, TV, literature, magazines, CDs, DVDs and videos, constructing and reinforcing the gaze. The tourist gaze is directed to features of landscape and townscape which separate them off from everyday experience. Such aspects are viewed because they are taken to be in some sense out of the ordinary. The viewing of such tourist sights often involves different forms of social patterning, with a much greater sensitivity to visual elements of landscape or townscape than normally found in everyday life. People linger over such a gaze, which is then often visually objectified or captured through photographs, postcards, films, models and so on. These enable the gaze to be reproduced, recaptured and redistributed over time and across space. The gaze is constructed through signs, and tourism involves the collection of signs. When tourists see two people kissing in Paris what they 4 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 4 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM Theories capture in the gaze is ‘timeless romantic Paris’. When a small village in England is seen, what they gaze upon is the ‘real olde England’. As Culler argues: ‘the tourist is interested in everything as a sign of itself. … All over the world the unsung armies of semioticians, the tourists, are fanning out in search of the signs of Frenchness, typical Italian behaviour, exemplary Oriental scenes, typical American thruways, traditional English pubs’ (1981: 127). 9 An array of tourist professionals reproduce ever new objects of the tourist gaze. These objects are located in a complex and changing hierarchy. This depends upon the interplay between, on the one hand, competition between interests involved in providing such objects and, on the other hand, changing class, gender and generational distinctions of taste among potential visitors. In this book we consider the development of, and historical transformations within, the tourist gaze. We mainly chart such changes in the past couple of centuries; that is, in the period in which mass tourism became widespread within much of Europe, North America and most other parts of the world. To be a tourist is one of the characteristics of the ‘modern’ experience. It has become a marker of status in modern societies and is also thought to be necessary for good health and a cosmopolitan outlook (see Feifer, 1985: 224; Urry, 2007). There was organised travel in premodern societies, but it was very much the preserve of elites (see Towner, 1988). In Imperial Rome there was a fairly extensive pattern of elite travel for pleasure and culture. A travel infrastructure developed, partly permitted by two centuries of peace. It was possible to travel from Hadrian’s Wall to the Euphrates without crossing a hostile border (Feifer, 1985: ch. l). Seneca maintained that this permitted city-dwellers to seek ever new sensations and pleasures. He said: ‘men [sic] travel widely to different sorts of places seeking different distractions because they are fickle, tired of soft living, and always seek after something which eludes them’ (quoted in Feifer, 1985: 9). In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries pilgrimages had become a widespread phenomenon ‘practicable and systematized, served by a growing industry of networks of charitable hospices and massproduced indulgence handbooks’ (Feifer, 1985: 29; Eade and Sallnow, 1991). Pilgrimages often included a mixture of religious devotion and culture and pleasure. By the fifteenth century there were regular organised tours from Venice to the Holy Land. The Grand Tour had become firmly established by the end of the seventeenth century for the sons of the aristocracy and the gentry, and by the late eighteenth century for the sons of the professional middle 5 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 5 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM The Tourist Gaze class. Over this period, between 1600 and 1800, treatises on travel shifted from a scholastic emphasis on touring as an opportunity for discourse, to travel as eyewitness observation. There was a visualisation of the travel experience, or the development of the ‘gaze’, aided and assisted by the growth of guidebooks which promoted new ways of seeing (see Adler, 1989). The character of the tour itself shifted, from the earlier ‘classical Grand Tour’ based on the emotionally neutral observation and recording of galleries, museums and high-cultural artefacts, to the nineteenth-century ‘romantic Grand Tour’ which saw the emergence of ‘scenic tourism’ and a much more private and passionate experience of beauty and the sublime (see Towner, 1985). Travel was expected to play a key role in the cognitive and perceptual education of the male English upper class (see Dent, 1975). The eighteenth century had seen the development of a considerable tourist infrastructure in the form of spa towns throughout much of Europe (Thompson, 1981: 11–12; Blackbourn, 2002). Myerscough notes that the ‘whole apparatus of spa life with its balls, its promenades, libraries, masters of ceremonies was designed to provide a concentrated urban experience of frenetic socialising for a dispersed rural elite’ (1974: 5). There have been periods in which much of the population engaged in play or recreation. In the countryside, work and play were particularly intertwined in the case of village or town fairs. Most towns and villages in England had at least one fair a year and many had more. People would often travel considerable distances and fairs involved a mixture of business and pleasure, normally especially centred around the tavern. By the eighteenth century the public house had become a major centre for public life in the community, providing light, heat, cooking facilities, furniture, news, banking and travel facilities, entertainment and sociability (Harrison, 1971; Clark, 1983). But before the nineteenth century, few outside the upper classes travelled to see objects unconnected with work or business. And it is this which is the central characteristic of mass tourism in modern societies, namely that much of the population in most years travels somewhere else to gaze upon it and stay there for reasons basically unconnected with work. Travel is thought to occupy 40 per cent of available ‘free time’ in Britain (Williams and Shaw, 1988: 12). If people do not travel, they lose status: travel is the marker of status. It is a crucial element of modern life to feel that travel and holidays are necessary. ‘I need a holiday’ reflects a modern discourse based on the idea that people’s physical and mental health will be restored if only they can ‘get away’ from time to time. 6 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 6 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM Theories The importance of this can be seen in the scale of contemporary travel. There are around 880 million international passenger arrivals each year, compared with 25 million in 1950. It is predicted that this figure will rise to 1.6 billion by 2020, although it dipped by over 4 per cent in 2009 (www.unwto.org/index.php; accessed 31.03.10). At any one time there are 300,000 passengers in flight above the USA, equivalent to a substantial city (Gottdiener, 2001: 1). Half a million new hotel rooms are built annually, while there are 31 million refugees across the globe (Papastergiadis, 2000: ch. 2). ‘Travel and tourism’ is the largest industry in the world, accounting for 9.4 per cent of world GDP and 8.2 per cent of all employment (www.wttc. org/eng/Tourism_Research/Economic_Research/; accessed 31.03.10). This travel occurs almost everywhere, with the World Tourism Organization publishing tourism/travel statistics for 204 countries with at least 70 countries receiving more than one million international tourist arrivals a year (www.unwto.org/index.php; accessed 31.03.10). There is more or less no country in the world that is not a significant receiver of visitors. However, the flows of such visitors originate very unequally, with the 45 countries with ‘high’ human development accounting for three-quarters of international tourism departures (UNDP, 1999: 53–5). Such mobilities are enormously costly for the environment (see many accounts in the journal Tourism in Focus and Chapter 9 below). There is an astonishing tripling of world car travel predicted between 1990 and 2050 (Hawken et al., 1999). In the next section we consider some of the seminal theoretical contributions that have attempted to make sense of these extensive flows. Theoretical Approaches Making theoretical sense of ‘fun, pleasure and entertainment’ has proved a difficult task for social scientists. In this section we summarise some of the seminal contributions to the sociology of tourism. They are not uninteresting, but they leave much work still to be done. In the rest of the book we develop some of the notions relevant to theoretical understanding of tourist places and practices (see Jamal and Robinson, 2009, and Hannam and Knox, 2010, for state-of-the-art reviews). One early formulation is Boorstin’s analysis of the ‘pseudo-event’ (1964). He argues that contemporary Americans cannot experience ‘reality’ directly but thrive on ‘pseudo-events’, with tourism being the prime example (see Eco, 1986; Baudrillard, 1988). Isolated from the host environment and the local people, mass tourists travel in 7 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 7 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM The Tourist Gaze guided groups and find pleasure in inauthentic contrived attractions, gullibly enjoying ‘pseudo-events’ and disregarding the ‘real’ world outside. As a result tourist entrepreneurs and the indigenous populations are induced to produce ever more extravagant displays for gullible observers who are thereby further removed from local people. Over time, via advertising and the media, the images generated through different tourist gazes come to constitute a closed selfperpetuating system of illusions which provide tourists with the basis for selecting and evaluating potential places to visit. Such visits are made, says Boorstin, within the ‘environmental bubble’ of familiar American-style hotels that insulates them from the strangeness of the host environment. A number of later writers develop and refine this relatively simple thesis of a historical shift from the ‘individual traveller’ to the ‘mass society tourist’. Turner and Ash’s The Golden Hordes (1975) fleshes out the thesis about how the tourist is placed at the centre of a strictly circumscribed world. Surrogate parents (travel agents, couriers, hotel managers) relieve the tourist of responsibility and protect him/her from harsh reality. Their solicitude restricts the tourist to the beach and certain approved objects of the tourist gaze (see Edensor 1998, on package-holidaymakers at the Taj Mahal). In a sense, Turner and Ash suggest, the tourists’ sensuality and aesthetic sense are as restricted as they are in their home country. This is further heightened by the relatively superficial way in which indigenous cultures are presented to the tourist. They note about Bali: ‘Many aspects of Balinese culture and art are so bewilderingly complex and alien to western modes that they do not lend themselves readily to the process of over-simplification and mass production that converts indigenous art forms into tourist kitsch’ (Turner and Ash, 1975: 159; Bruner, 1995; and see Figure 1.1). The upshot is that in the search for ever-new places to visit, what is constructed is a set of hotels and tourist sights that are bland and lacking contradiction, ‘a small monotonous world that everywhere shows us our own image … the pursuit of the exotic and diverse ends in uniformity’ (Turner and Ash, 1975: 292). Somewhat critical of this argument, Cohen maintains that there is no single tourist as such but various tourist types or modes of tourist experience (see 1972, 1979, 1988, mainly drawn from the sociology of religion). What he terms as the ‘experiential’, the ‘experimental’ and the ‘existential’ do not rely on the environmental bubble of conventional tourist services. To varying degrees such tourist experiences are based on rejecting such ways of organising tourist activity. Moreover, 8 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 8 09/06/2011 11:01:03 AM Figure 1.1 The tourist gaze in Bali, Indonesia 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 9 09/06/2011 11:01:04 AM The Tourist Gaze one should also note that such bubbles permit many people to visit places which otherwise they would not, and to have at least some contact with the ‘strange’ places thereby encountered. Indeed, until such places have developed a fully-fledged tourist infrastructure much of the ‘strangeness’ of such destinations will be impossible to hide and package within a complete array of pseudo-events. The most significant challenge to Boorstin is MacCannell, who is also concerned with the inauthenticity and superficiality of modern life (1999; orig. 1976). He quotes Simmel on the nature of the sensory impressions experienced in the ‘metropolis’: ‘the rapid crowding of changing images, the sharp discontinuity in the grasp of a single glance, and the unexpectedness of onrushing impressions’ (MacCannell, 1999: 49). He maintains these are symptomatic of the tourist experience but disagrees with Boorstin’s account, which he regards as reflecting a characteristically upper-class view that ‘other people are tourists, while I am a traveller’ (MacCannell, 1999: 107; see Buzard 1993, on this distinction). All tourists, for MacCannell, embody a quest for authenticity, and this quest is a modern version of the universal human concern with the sacred. The tourist is a kind of contemporary pilgrim, seeking authenticity in other ‘times’ and other ‘places’ away from that person’s everyday life. Tourists show particular fascination in the ‘real lives’ of others that somehow possess a reality that is hard to discover in their own experiences. Modern society is therefore rapidly institutionalising the rights of outsiders to look into its workings. ‘Institutions are fitted with arenas, platforms and chambers set aside for the exclusive use of tourists’ (MacCannell, 1999: 49). Almost any sort of work, even the backbreaking toil of the Welsh miner or the unenviable work of those employed in the Parisian sewer, can be the object of the tourist gaze. MacCannell particularly examines the character of the social relations which emerge from this fascination people have in the work lives of others. He notes that such ‘real lives’ can only be found backstage and are not immediately evident to us. Hence, the gaze of the tourist will involve an obvious intrusion into people’s lives, which would be generally unacceptable. So the people being observed and local tourist entrepreneurs gradually come to construct backstages in a contrived and artificial manner. ‘Tourist spaces’ are thus organised around what MacCannell calls ‘staged authenticity’ (1973). The development of the constructed tourist attraction results from how those who are subject to the tourist gaze respond, both to protect themselves from intrusions into their lives backstage and to take advantage of the opportunities it presents for profitable investment. By contrast, then, with Boorstin, 10 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 10 09/06/2011 11:01:04 AM Theories MacCannell argues that ‘psuedo-events’ result from the social relations of tourism and not from an individualistic search for the inauthentic. Pearce and Moscardo further elaborate the notion of authenticity (1986; Turner and Manning, 1988). They maintain it is necessary to distinguish between the authenticity of the setting and the authenticity of the persons gazed upon; and to distinguish between the diverse elements of the tourist experience of importance to the tourist in question. Crick, by contrast, points out that there is a sense in which all cultures are ‘staged’ and inauthentic. Cultures are invented, remade and the elements reorganised (Crick, 1988: 65–6). Hence, it is not clear why the apparently inauthentic staging for the tourist is so very different from the processes of cultural remaking that happens in all cultures anyway (Rojek and Urry, 1997). Based on research at New Salem, where Abraham Lincoln spent some years in the 1830s, Bruner interestingly distinguishes conflicting senses of what is meant by ‘authentic’ (1994; Wang, 2000). First, there is the authentic in the sense of a small town that looks like it has appropriately aged over the previous 170 years, whether the buildings are actually that old or are newly, if sensitively, constructed. Second, there is the town that appears as it would have looked in the 1830s, that is, mostly comprising in fact new buildings. Third, there is authenticity in the sense of the buildings and artefacts that literally date from the 1830s and have been there ever since. And fourth, there are those buildings and artefacts that have been authorised as authentic by the Trust that oversees ‘heritage’ within the town. Holderness similarly describes the processes in Stratford-upon-Avon by which the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust has come to exert a hegemonic role in the town, determining which buildings, places and artefacts are authentically part of ‘Shakespeare’s heritage’ and those which are not so ‘authenticated’ (1988). Bruner also notes that New Salem now is wholly different from the 1830s since in the previous period there would not have been camera-waving tourists wandering about in large numbers excitedly staring at actors dressed up as though they are residents of a previous and long-since disappeared epoch. MacCannell also notes that, unlike the religious pilgrim who pays homage to a single sacred centre, the tourist pays homage to a large array of centres and attractions. These include sites of industry and work as work has become a mere attribute of society and not its central feature (MacCannell, 1999: 58). MacCannell characterises such an interest in work displays as ‘alienated leisure’. It is a perversion of the aim of leisure since it involves a return to the workplace but now as leisure. 11 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 11 09/06/2011 11:01:04 AM The Tourist Gaze He also notes how each centre of attraction involves complex processes of production in order that regular, meaningful and profitable tourist gazes can be generated and sustained. Such gazes cannot be left to chance. People have to learn how, when and where to ‘gaze’. Clear markers are provided and in some cases the object of the gaze is merely the marker that indicates some event or experience previously happened at that spot. MacCannell maintains that there is normally a process of sacralisation that renders a particular natural or cultural artefact a sacred object of the tourist ritual (1999: 42–8). A number of stages are involved in this: naming the sight, framing and elevation, enshrinement, mechanical reproduction of the sacred object and social reproduction as new sights (or ‘sites’) name themselves after the famous. It is also important to note that not only are there many attractions to which to pay homage, but many attractions may only be gazed upon once. In other words, the gaze of the tourist can be amazingly fickle, searching out or anticipating something new or something different. MacCannell notes that ‘anything is potentially an attraction. It simply awaits one person to take the trouble to point it out to another as something noteworthy, or worth seeing’ (1999: 192). The complex processes involved here are partly revealed in Turner’s analysis of pilgrimage (1973, 1974). Important rites de passage are involved in the movement from one stage to another. There are three such stages: first, social and spatial separation from the normal place of residence and conventional social ties; second, liminality, where the individual finds him/herself in an ‘anti-structure … out of time and place’ – conventional social ties are suspended, an intensive bonding ‘communitas’ is experienced, and there is direct experience of the sacred or supernatural; and third, reintegration, where the individual is reintegrated with the previous social group, usually at a higher social status. Although this analysis is applied to pilgrimages, other writers have drawn out its implications for tourism (see Cohen, 1988: 38–40; Shields, 1990; Eade and Sallnow 1991). Like the pilgrim, the tourist moves from a familiar place to a far place and then returns to the familiar place. At the far place both the pilgrim and the tourist ‘worship’ shrines which are sacred, albeit in different ways, and as a result gain some kind of uplifting experience. In the case of tourists, Turner and Turner talk of ‘liminoid’ situations where everyday obligations are suspended or inverted (1978). There is licence for permissive and playful ‘non-serious’ behaviour and the encouragement of a relatively unconstrained ‘communitas’ or social togetherness. 12 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 12 09/06/2011 11:01:04 AM Theories What is often involved is semi-routine action or a kind of routinised non-routine. One analysis of such a pilgrimage is Shields’ (1990) exploration of the ‘honeymoon capital of the world’, Niagara Falls. Going on honeymoon to Niagara did indeed involve a pilgrimage, stepping out into an experience of liminality in which the codes of normal social experience are reversed. In particular, honeymooners find themselves historically in a liminal zone where the strict social conventions of bourgeois families were relaxed under the exigencies of travel and of a relative anonymity and freedom from collective scrutiny. In a novel written in 1808, a character says of Niagara: ‘Elsewhere there are cares of business and fashion, there are age, sorrow, and heartbreak; but here only youth, faith, rapture’ (quoted in Shields, 1990). Shields also discusses how Niagara, like Gretna Green in Scotland, has become a signifier now more or less emptied of meaning, a commercialised cliché. Some writers in this tradition argue that such playful or ‘ludic’ behaviour is restitutive or compensatory, revitalising the tourists for their return to familiar places of home and work (see Lett, 1983 on ludic charter-yacht tourism). Other writers argue that general notions of liminality and inversion have to be given a more precise content. It is necessary to investigate the nature of the social and cultural patterns within the tourist’s day-to-day existence in order to see just what is inverted and how the liminal experience works out. Gottlieb argues, for example, that what is sought for in a vacation/ holiday is inversion of the everyday. The middle-class tourist will seek to be a ‘peasant for a day’ while the lower middle-class tourist will be ‘king/queen for a day’ (1982). Although these are hardly profound examples, they do point to a crucial feature of tourism, namely the distinction between the familiar and the faraway and how such differences produce distinct kinds of liminal zones. It therefore seems wrong to suggest that a search for authenticity is the basis for the organisation of tourism. Rather, one key feature would seem to be that there is a difference between one’s normal place of residence/work and the object of the tourist gaze. Now it may be that a seeking for what we take to be authentic elements is an important component here, but that is only because there is in some sense a contrast with everyday experiences. Furthermore, it has been argued that some visitors – what Feifer (1985) terms ‘post-tourists’ – almost delight in the inauthenticity of the normal tourist experience. ‘Posttourists’ find pleasure in the multiplicity of tourist games. They know that there is no authentic tourist experience, that there are merely a series of games or texts that can be played (see Chapter 5 later). 13 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 13 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze We argue in this book for the fundamentally visual nature of many tourism experiences. Gazes organise the encounters of visitors with the ‘other’, providing some sense of competence, pleasure and structure to those experiences. The gaze demarcates an array of pleasurable qualities to be generated within particular times and spaces. It is the gaze that orders and regulates the relationships between the various sensuous experiences while away, identifying what is visually out-of-ordinary, what are relevant differences and what is ‘other’. We can date the birth of the tourist gaze in the west to around 1840. This is the moment when the ‘tourist gaze’, that peculiar combining together of the means of collective travel, the desire for travel and the techniques of photographic reproduction, becomes a core component of western modernity. As we show in Chapter 7, photography is central within the modern tourist gaze. Tourism and photography commenced in the west in 1840, as Louis Daguerre and Fox Talbot announced their somewhat different ‘inventions’ of the camera (in 1839 and 1840 respectively). In 1841, Thomas Cook organised what is now regarded as the first packaged ‘tour’; the first railway hotel was opened in York just before the 1840s railway mania; the first national railway timetable, Bradshaws, appeared in 1839; Cunard started the first ever Ocean steamship service; and Wells Fargo, the forerunner of American Express, began stagecoach services across the American west (Urry, 2007: 14). Also in 1840, Dr Arnold, the famous Headmaster of Rugby School, declared that ‘Switzerland is to England … the general summer touring place’ (quoted Ring, 2000: 25). 1840, then, is one of those remarkable moments when the world seems to shift and new patterns of relationships become irreversibly established. Recent literature has, however, critiqued this notion of the ‘tourist gaze’ for reducing tourism to visual experiences – sightseeing – and neglecting other senses and bodily experiences involved in these doings of tourism. A so-called ‘performance turn’ within tourist studies highlights that tourists experience places in more multi-sensuous ways, touching, tasting, smelling, hearing and so on, as well as the materiality of objects and places and not just objects and places viewed as signs. With inspiration from Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgical sociology and Thrift’s (2008) non-representational theory, this performative turn conceptualises the corporeality of tourist bodies and the embodied actions of, and interactions between, tourist workers, tourists and locals. It has been suggested that it is necessary to choose between gazing and performing as the tourism paradigm (Perkins and Thorns, 2001). But The Tourist Gaze 3.0 rethinks the concept of the tourist gaze as performative, embodied practices, 14 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 14 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories highlighting how each gaze depends upon practices and material relations as upon discourses and signs. What is distinct is the emphasis upon embodied and ‘hybrid’ performances of gazing and photographing and the various materialities and technologies constituting each way of seeing (see particularly Chapters 8 and 9). Moreover, while sightseeing is crucial, seeing is not the only practice and sense that tourists engage in and activate. There are limits on how much vision can explain. And yet the tourist gaze is always present within tourism performances, as hiking, sunbathing, whitewater rafting and so on are of importance in part through their location within distinct visual environments. Also The Tourist Gaze 3.0 illuminates some darker sides of the tourist gaze (Urry, 1992; Hollingshead, 1999; Morgan and Pritchard, 2005; Elliott and Urry, 2010). We subsequently discuss power relations between gazer and gazee within tourism performances, different forms of photographic surveillance and the changing climates that the global tourist gaze seems to generate. For the moment, though, it is necessary to consider just what produces a distinct tourist gaze. Minimally, there must be certain aspects of the place to be visited which distinguish it from what is conventionally encountered in everyday life. Tourism results from a basic binary division between the ordinary/everyday and the extraordinary. Tourist experiences involve some aspect or element that induces pleasurable experiences which, by comparison with the everyday, are out of the ordinary. This is not to say that other elements of the production of the tourist experience will not make the typical tourist feel that he or she is ‘home from home’, not too much ‘out of place’. But potential objects of the tourist gaze must be different in some way or other. They must be out of the ordinary. People must experience particularly distinct pleasures which involve different senses or are on a different scale from those typically encountered in everyday life. There are, however, many different ways in which such a division between the ordinary and the visually extraordinary become established and sustained. First, there is seeing a unique object, such as the Forbidden City in Beijing, the Eiffel Tower, Ground Zero, Buckingham Palace, the Grand Canyon, or the spot in the tunnel in Paris where Princess Diana fatally crashed. These are absolutely distinct objects to be gazed upon which everyone knows about. They are famous for being famous, although such places may have lost the basis of their fame, such as the Empire State Building in New York. Most people living in the ‘west’ would hope to see some of these objects during their lifetime. They entail a kind of pilgrimage to a sacred centre, often a 15 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 15 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze capital city, a major city or the site of a unique global event (Roche, 2000; Winter, Teo and Chang, 2009, on examples in the ‘east’). Then there is the seeing of particular signs, such as the typical American skyscraper, Japanese garden, French château, Norwegian fjord and so on. This mode of gazing shows how tourists are in a way semioticians, reading the landscape for signifiers of certain preestablished notions or signs derived from discourses of travel and tourism (Culler, 1981: 128). Third, there is seeing unfamiliar aspects of what had previously been thought of as familiar. One example is visiting museums which show representations of the lives of ordinary people, revealing their cultural artefacts. Often these are set out in a ‘realistic’ setting to demonstrate what houses, workshops and factories had been like. Visitors thus see unfamiliar elements of other people’s lives which had been presumed familiar. Then there is the seeing of ordinary aspects of social life being undertaken by people in unusual contexts. Some tourism in evidentially poor countries has been of this sort. Visitors have found it particularly interesting to gaze upon the carrying out of domestic tasks, and hence to see how the routines of life are surprisingly not that unfamiliar. Finally, there is the seeing of particular signs that indicate that a certain other object is indeed extraordinary, even though it does not seem to be so. A good example is moon rock, which appears unremarkable. The attraction is not the object itself but the sign referring to it that marks it out as distinctive. Thus the marker becomes the distinctive sight (Culler, 1981: 139). A similar seeing occurs in art galleries when part of what is gazed at is the name of the artist, ‘Rembrandt’ say, as much as the painting itself which may be difficult for those with limited cultural capital to distinguish from others in the same gallery. Heidegger captures something of the visual puzzlement involved in being a tourist, in his case while cruising down the Adriatic. He particularly emphasises the tourist gaze, that is how experiences of other places are transformed into ‘an object ready-at-hand for the viewer’ (Heidegger, 2005: 42). He goes on to complain, like countless other ‘tourists’ before and after, when his cabin ‘did not offer much of a view, since it was blocked by the lifeboats’ (2005: 7). But he subsequently gets a better view and gazes upon ‘Greece’. Heidegger’s problem then is that it does not look like ‘Greece’. Is it really ‘Greece’? He asks: ‘Was this, though, already Greece? What I had sensed and expected did not appear…. Everything more looked like an Italian landscape’ (2005: 8). He proceeds to worry that ‘what was missing 16 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 16 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories was the presence of that Greek element’, again something that countless other tourists worry about when looking at the relatively unfamiliar, when it does not look as it should look (2005: 11). And when Heidegger gets to Olympia, the original place of festival of the ancient and modern Olympic Games, ‘we found just a plain village disfigured even more by the unfinished new buildings [to become] hotels for the American tourists’ (2005: 12). What should thus be gazed upon? Thus there is no simple relationship between what is directly seen and what this signifies. We do not literally ‘see’ things. Particularly as tourists, we see objects and especially buildings in part constituted as signs. They stand for something else. When we gaze as tourists what we see are various signs or tourist clichés. Some such signs function metaphorically. A pretty English village can be read as representing the continuities and traditions of England from the Middle Ages to the present day. Other signs, such as lovers in Paris, function metonymically. Here what happens is the substitution of some feature or effect or cause of the phenomenon for the phenomenon itself. The ex-miner, now employed at the former coalmine to show tourists around, is a metonym for the structural change in the economy from one based on heavy industry to one based on tourist services. The development of the industrial museum in an old mill is a metonymic sign of the development of a post-industrial society (see Chapter 6). MacCannell describes the complex relations involved in developing and reproducing ‘attractions’. These relations occur over time between a ‘marker’, the ‘sight’ and the ‘tourist’ (1999: 41). Gazing is not merely seeing, but involves cognitive work of interpreting, evaluating, drawing comparisons and making mental connections between signs and their referents, and capturing signs photographically. Gazing is a set of practices. Individual performances of gazing at a particular sight are framed by cultural styles, circulating images and texts of this and other places, as well as personal experiences and memories. Moreover, gazing involves cultural skills of daydreaming and mind travelling (Löfgren, 1999). ‘The extraordinary’, as Rojek says, ‘spontaneously invites speculation, reverie, mind-voyaging and a variety of other acts of imagination’ (1997: 53). The notion of the tourist gaze is not meant to account for why specific individuals are motivated to travel. Rather we emphasise the systematic and regularised nature of various gazes, each of which depends upon social discourses and practices, as well as aspects of building, design and restoration that foster the necessary ‘look’ of a place or an environment. Such gazes implicate both the gazer and the gazee in an ongoing and systematic set of social and physical relations. 17 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 17 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze These relations are discursively organised by many professionals: photographers, writers of travel books, blogs and guides, local councils, experts in the ‘heritage industry’, travel agents, hotel owners, designers, tour operators, TV travel programmes, tourism development officers, architects, planners, tourism academics and so on. In contemporary tourism, these technical, semiotic and organisational discourses are combined to ‘construct’ visitor attractions, or what Heidegger describes as an alien power which enforces ‘its own commands and regulations’, in his case over Greece on his attempted ‘sojourn’ (2005: 55–6). Focusing on the gaze brings out how the organising sense in tourism is visual. And this mirrors the general privileging of the eye within the history of western societies. Sight was long viewed as the noblest of the senses, the most discriminating and reliable of the sensuous mediators between humans and their physical environment. This emphasis on sight is present within western epistemology, within religious and other symbolisms and within notions of how society should be visible, made transparent, to government (Urry, 2000: ch. 4). At the same time as this visual proliferation, so the visual is commonly denigrated within many discourses of travel (Buzard, 1993) and more generally (Jay, 1993). The person who only lets the sense of sight have free rein is ridiculed. Such sightseers, especially with a camera draped around their neck, are conventionally taken to be superficial in their appreciation of environments, peoples and places. Martin Parr’s photographic collection Small Worlds reveals and exposes such a denigration of the (normally male) camera-wearing tourist (1995; Osborne, 2000: ch. 7). There can be an acute embarrassment about mere sightseeing. Sight may be viewed as the most superficial of the senses, getting in the way of real experiences that should involve other senses and necessitate long periods of time in order for proper immersion. Famously, Wordsworth argued that the Lake District demands a different eye, one that is not threatened or frightened by the relatively wild and untamed nature. It requires ‘a slow and gradual process of culture’ (Wordsworth, 1984: 193). This criticism of the mere sightseeing tourist is taken to the extreme with the critique of the ‘hyperreal’, simulated designed places that have the appearance of being more ‘real’ than the original (Baudrillard, 1983, 1988; see Chapter 5). With hyper-reality the sense of vision is said to be reduced to a limited array of visible features. It is then exaggerated and dominates the other senses. Hyper-real places are characterised by surface appearances. The sense of sight is condensed to the most immediate and visible aspects of the scene, such as the seductive façades of 18 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 18 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories Main Street in Disneyland or the ocean-liner environment at Manchester’s Trafford Centre, although such places can of course be performed in different ways (see Chapters 6 and 8; Bryman, 1995; see also Fjellman, 1992, on Disney, the ‘authentic’ theme park!). However, although the tourist gaze emerges in this general sense, there are different kinds of gaze authorised by various discourses. These discourses include education, as with the eighteenth-century European Grand Tour and with many current study-tour programmes; health, as with tourism designed to ‘restore’ the individual to healthy functioning often through staying in particular sites of bodily restoration (such as the Swiss Alps or Rotarua in New Zealand); group solidarity, as with much Japanese or Taiwanese tourism (as at Niagara Falls: Shields, 1990); pleasure and play, as with ‘ludic’ tourism within all-inclusive Caribbean resorts only available for those who happen to be aged 18–30; heritage and memory, as with the development of indigenous histories, museums, re-created festivals, feasts, dances and so on (see Arellano, 2004, on Inca heritage); and nation, as with the increasingly profitable and autonomous notion of Scotland – the brand (McCrone et al., 1995). Moreover, different discourses imply different socialities. With what we call the romantic gaze, solitude, privacy and a personal, semispiritual relationship with the object of the gaze are emphasised. In such cases, tourists expect to look at the object privately or at least only with ‘significant others’. Large numbers of strangers visiting, as at the Taj Mahal, intrude upon and spoil that lonely contemplation desired by western visitors (famously seen in the Princess Diana shot at the Taj; Edensor, 1998: 121–3). The romantic gaze involves further quests for new objects of the solitary gaze, the deserted beach, the empty hilltop, the uninhabited forest, the uncontaminated mountain stream and so on. Notions of the romantic gaze are endlessly used in marketing and advertising tourist sites, especially within the ‘west’. By contrast, what we call the collective tourist gaze involves conviviality. Other people also viewing the site are necessary to give liveliness or a sense of carnival or movement. Large numbers of people indicate that this is the place to be. These moving, viewing others are obligatory for the collective consumption of place, as with Barcelona, Ibiza, Las Vegas, the Beijing Olympics, Hong Kong and so on. Baudelaire relatedly describes the notion of flânerie: ‘dwelling in the throng, in the ebb and flo, the bustle, the fleeting’ (quoted in Tester, 1994: 2). Indian visitors to the Taj Mahal are implicated in a communal witnessing with family and friends of a national monument (Edensor, 1998: 126), whereas many seaside resorts in northern Europe and North America have lost 19 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 19 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze the crowds necessary for the collective gaze – they have become sites of a kind of lost collective gaze (Walton, 2000). Beyond these two forms of the gaze, various writers have shown other gazes, other ways in which places get visually consumed both while people are stationary and through movement. These vary in terms of the socialities involved, the lengths of time taken and the character of visual appreciation. Thus first, there is the spectatorial gaze that involves the collective glancing at and collecting of different signs that have been very briefly seen in passing at a glance. Examples of this would be the collecting of glances as from a tourist bus window (Larsen, 2001) or from Norwegian cruise ships or ferries that enable visitors to see ‘Norway in a Nutshell’. Then there is the notion of the reverential gaze used to describe how, for example, Muslims spiritually consume the sacred site of the Taj Mahal. Muslim visitors stop to scan and to concentrate their attention upon the mosque, the tombs and the Koranic script (Edensor, 1998: 127–8). The anthropological gaze describes how individual visitors scan a variety of sights/sites and are able to locate them interpretatively within a historical array of meanings and symbols. Some tour guides may themselves provide accounts that interpret sights/sites historically and inter-culturally (as with Bali: see Bruner, 1995, on the anthropologist as tour guide). Related to this is the environmental gaze. This involves a scholarly or NGO-authorised discourse of scanning various tourist practices to determine their footprint upon the ‘environment’. On the basis of such reflexivity it is then possible to choose that with the smallest footprint and then recommend through various media to like-minded environmentalists (as with the UK-campaigning organisation Tourism Concern: Urry, 1995a: 191). Then there is the mediatised gaze. This is a collective gaze where particular sites famous for their ‘mediated’ nature are viewed. This is the gaze of so-called movie-induced tourism (see Chapter 5). Those gazing on the scene relive elements or aspects of the media event. Examples of such mediated gazes include locations in Santa Monica and Venice Beach where many Hollywood films are set, the village of Avoca in County Wicklow now overrun by Ballykissangel tourists and the Taj Mahal which is a setting for various ‘masala’ movies where particular scenes can be relived (Edensor, 1998: 127). Finally, there is the family gaze. Haldrup and Larsen suggest how much tourist photography revolves around producing loving family photographs set within distinct visual environments (2003; see Chapters 7 and 8). As discussed in detail in Chapter 8, gazing is an embodied social practice that involves senses beyond sight. At times we refer to travel 20 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 20 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories as corporeal travel. This is to emphasise something so obvious that it has often been forgotten (especially according to Veijola and Jokinen, 1994, by most male theorists!). It is that tourists moving from place to place comprise lumpy, fragile, aged, gendered, racialised bodies. Such bodies encounter other bodies, objects and the physical world multi-sensuously. Tourism involves corporeal movement and forms of pleasure and these are central to any study of diverse tourisms. In that sense, the tourist gaze involves relations between bodies that are themselves in at least intermittent movement. This corporeality of movement produces intermittent moments of physical proximity, to be bodily in the same space as some landscape or townscape, or at a live event or with one’s friends, family, colleagues, partner or indeed in the company of desired ‘strangers’ (all skiers, or all aged 18–30 and single, or all bridge players). Much travel results from a powerful ‘compulsion to proximity’ that makes the travel seem absolutely necessary (Boden and Molotch, 1994; Urry, 2007). Much work and social life entail travel because of the importance of connection, of needing to meet, to encourage others, to sustain one’s networks (Larsen et al., 2006). To be there oneself is what is crucial in most tourism, whether this place occupies a key location within the global tourist industry or is merely somewhere that one has been told about by a friend. Places need to be seen ‘for oneself’ and experienced directly: to meet at a particular house of one’s childhood or visit a particular restaurant or walk along a certain river valley or energetically climb a particular hill or capture a good photograph oneself. Co-presence, then, involves seeing or touching or hearing or smelling or tasting a particular place (see Rodaway, 1994; Urry, 2000, on the multiple senses involved). A further kind of travel occurs where a ‘live’ event is to be seen, an event programmed to happen at a specific moment. Examples include political, artistic, celebratory and sporting occasions, the last are especially ‘live’ since the outcome (and even the length) may be unknown. Each of these generates intense moments of co-presence, whether for Princess Diana’s funeral, the Shanghai World Expo, Glastonbury Festival, or the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. Each of these cannot be missed and they produce enormous movements of people at very specific moments in ‘global cities’ in order to ‘catch’ that particular live mega-event. Roche describes the planned megaevents as ‘social spatio-temporal “hubs” and “switches” that … channel, mix and re-route global flows’ (2000: 199). Such events are spatiotemporal moments of global condensation, involving the peculiarly intense ‘localisation’ of such global events within ‘unique places due 21 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 21 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze to the fact that they staged unique events’. These places therefore have the ‘power to transform themselves from being mundane places … into being these special “host city” sites’ that come to occupy distinct niches within global tourism (Roche, 2000: 224; see Chapter 6). Such co-presence nearly always involves travel over, and beyond, other places, to get to those visually distinct sites to watch a live event, to climb a particular rock-face, to wander ‘lonely as a cloud’, to go white-water rafting, to bungee jump and so on. These corporeally defined practices are found in specific, specialised ‘leisure spaces’, geographically and ontologically distant from work and domestic sites. Indeed, part of the attraction of these places, where bodies can be corporeally alive, apparently ‘natural’ or rejuvenated, is that they are sensuously ‘other’ to everyday routines and places. Ring interestingly describes how during the nineteenth century the Alps were developed into such a specialised space where the English gentleman could apparently feel properly alive (2000). Such places involve ‘adventure’, islands of life resulting from intense bodily arousal, from bodies in motion, finding their complex way in time and space (see Frisby and Featherstone, 1997; and Lewis, 2000, on the rock-climbing ‘adventurer’). Some social practices involve bodily resistance where the body physicalises its relationship with the external world. In the late eighteenth-century development of walking as resistance, the ‘freedom’ of the road and the development of leisurely walking were modest acts of rebellion against established social hierarchy (Jarvis, 1997). Similarly, extreme ‘adventure tourism’ demonstrates forms of physical resistance to work and the everyday (Perkins and Thorns, 2001). The hedonistic desire to acquire a bronzed body developed through resistance to the Protestant Ethic, women’s domesticity and ‘rational recreation’ (see Ahmed, 2000). A similar resistance to the embodiment of the ‘Protestant Ethic’ can be seen in the growth of health-spa travel where the body stays still and is subjected to exotic, pampered luxury treatments. So far we have regarded the body from the viewpoint of the tourist. But tourism is often about the body-as-seen, displaying, performing and seducing visitors with skill, charm, strength, sexuality and so on (see Chapter 4). Furthermore, we have so far considered the gaze from the perspective of the gazer. However, much tourism research concerns the consequences of being gazed upon, with working within a ‘tourist honeypot’ and subject to a gaze somewhat similar to being within a panopticon, for example (Urry, 1992). Staged authenticity may have the effect of keeping out what may be deemed the intrusive eye while providing visitors with what seems 22 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 22 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories properly ‘authenticated’. However, whether this is possible depends upon various determinants such as the relations of power within the ‘host’ community, the time-space characteristics of visitors and the kinds of gaze involved. For example, the least intrusive gaze may be the spectatorial since it is likely to be mobile and will soon pass by (although the endlessly anonymous traffic may itself be overwhelming). The anthropological gaze can be the most intrusive since tourists will insist on staying for lengthy periods within the host community in order to get to know it ‘authentically’. But tourists not only gaze but are also gazed upon by staff and ‘locals’. Locals gaze upon tourists’ practices, clothes, bodies and cameras and find them amusing, disgusting, curious or attractive. Maoz speaks of a ‘mutual gaze’ to highlight how tourists too can become the mad ones behind bars, watched by locals (2006; see Chapter 8). Mobile Worlds In 1990, when the first edition of this book was published, it was unclear how significant the processes we now call ‘globalisation’ would become. Indeed, the internet had only just been invented and there was no indication how it would transform countless aspects of social life, being taken up more rapidly than any previous technology. And no sooner had the internet appeared than another ‘mobile technology’, the mobile phone, transformed communications practices on the move. Overall the last two decades have seen remarkable ‘timespace compression’ as people across the globe have been brought closer through various technologically assisted developments. There is increasingly what Bauman describes as the shift from a solid, fixed modernity to a more fluid and speeded-up ‘liquid modernity’ (2000). And part of this sense of compression of space has stemmed from the rapid flows of travellers and tourists physically moving from place to place, and especially from hub airport to hub airport. Elsewhere we distinguish between virtual travel through the internet, imaginative travel through phone, radio and TV, and corporeal travel along the infrastructures of the global travel industry (Urry, 2007; also see Cresswell, 2006). The amount of ‘traffic’ along all these has magnified over this last decade or so and there is no evidence that virtual and imaginative travel is replacing corporeal travel, but there are complex intersections between these different modes of travel that are increasingly de-differentiated from one another. As Microsoft asks, ‘Where do you want to go today?’ And there are many different ways of getting ‘there’. 23 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 23 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM The Tourist Gaze What we call corporeal travel has taken on immense dimensions and comprises the largest ever movement of people across national borders. Because of these liquidities the relations between almost all societies across the globe are mediated by flows of tourists, as place after place is reconfigured as a recipient of such flows. There is an omnivorous producing and ‘consuming [of] places’ around the globe (see Urry, 1995a). Core components of contemporary global culture now include the hotel buffet, the pool, the cocktail, the beach (Lencek and Bosker, 1998), the airport lounge (Cwerner, Kesselring and Urry, 2009) and the bronzed tan (Ahmed, 2000). This omnivorousness presupposes the growth of ‘tourism reflexivity’, the set of disciplines, procedures and criteria that enable each (and every?) place to monitor, evaluate and develop its tourism potential within the emerging patterns of global tourism. This reflexivity is concerned with identifying a particular place’s location within the contours of geography, history and culture that swirl the globe, and in particular identifying that place’s actual and potential material and semiotic resources. One element in this ‘tourism reflexivity’ is the very institutionalisation of tourism studies, of new monographs, textbooks, exotic conferences, departments and journals (see The Sage Handbook of Tourism Studies: Jamal and Robinson, 2009). There are also many consultancy firms interlinked with local, national and international states, companies, voluntary associations and NGOs. The emergence of this ‘tourism industry’ is captured in the figure of Rupert Sheldrake, an anthropologist of tourism, in David Lodge’s Paradise News (1991). This reflexivity is not simply a matter of individuals and their lifepossibilities but of sets of systematic, regularised and evaluative procedures that enable places to monitor, modify and maximise their location within the turbulent global order. Such procedures ‘invent’, produce, market and circulate, especially through global TV and the internet, new or different or repackaged or niche-dependent places and their corresponding visual images. And the circulating of such images develops further the very idea of the globe itself seen, as it were, from afar (see Franklin, Lury and Stacey, 2000). Of course not all members of the world community are equal participants within global tourism. Side by side with global tourists and travellers within many of those ‘empty meeting places’ or ‘nonplaces’ of modernity, such as the airport lounge, the coach station, the railway terminus, the motorway service stations, docks and so on, are countless global exiles (Augé, 1995). Such exiles are fleeing from famine, war, changing climates, torture, persecution and genocide, as 24 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 24 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Theories economic and social inequalities and the consequential displacements of population that have magnified in recent years and forced mobility upon many. The recent growth of ‘people smuggling’ has generated a multi-billion pound industry with millions in transit across the world at any time. Significantly for the ‘tourist gaze’, many developments are taking ‘tourism’ from the margins of the global order, and indeed of the academy, to almost the centre of this emergent mobile world of ‘liquid modernity’. First, tourism infrastructures have been constructed in what would have been thought of as the unlikeliest of places. While clearly most people across the world are not global tourists qua visitors, this does not mean that the places that they live in and the associated images of nature, nation, colonialism, sacrifice, community, heritage and so on are not powerful constituents of a rapacious global tourism. Some destinations that are now significantly included in the patterns of global tourism comprise Alaska, Antarctica, Nazi-occupation sites in the Channel Islands, extinct coal mines, Ground Zero, Iceland, Mongolia, Mount Everest, Northern Ireland, Northern Cyprus under Turkish ‘occupation’, Pearl Harbor, postcommunist Russia, the Soweto township in South Africa (see Figure 1.2), outer space, the Titanic, Vietnam and so on. In certain cases becoming a tourist destination is part of a reflexive process by which societies and places come to enter the global order, or to ‘re-enter’ as in the cases of China after 1978 or Cuba during the 1990s, in part using pre-communist American cars in its place-marketing; see Figure 1.3. Further, there are large increases in tourists emanating from many very different countries, especially those of the ‘Orient’, which once were places mainly visited and consumed by those from the west. Now rising incomes for an Asian middle class (as well as the student study tour and ‘backpacker tourism’) have generated a strong desire to see those places of the west that appear to define global culture. The development of a huge middle-class tourist demand from mainland China is a major new development. Hendry, however, describes how various theme parks full of exotic features of ‘westernness’ are established within various Asian countries (2000). She describes this as The Orient Strikes Back, the putting on display of many features of western culture for Asians to view, to wonder at and to exoticise, without leaving their home country (more generally, see Winter, Teo and Chang, on Asia on Tour, 2009). Moreover, many types of work are now found within these circuits of global tourism and so it is difficult not to be implicated within, or 25 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 25 09/06/2011 11:01:05 AM Informal township, Soweto Figure 1.2 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 26 09/06/2011 11:01:07 AM 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 27 09/06/2011 11:01:07 AM Figure 1.3 1950s American cars re-forming the place-image of Cuba The Tourist Gaze affected by, one or more of these circuits that increasingly overlap with a more general ‘economy of signs’ spreading across multiple spaces of consumption (Lash and Urry, 1994; see Chapter 4). Such forms of work include transportation, hospitality, travel, design and consultancy; the producing of ‘images’ of global tourist sites, global icons (the Eiffel Tower), iconic types (the global beach) and vernacular icons (Balinese dances); the mediatising and circulating of images through print, TV, news, internet and so on; and the organising through politics and protest campaigns for or against the construction or development of tourist infrastructures. And it involves the almost ubiquitous sextourism industries (Clift and Carter, 2000; see Chapter 3). Also, increasingly, roaming the globe are powerful and ubiquitous global brands or logos (Klein, 2000). Their fluid-like power stems from how the most successful corporations over the last two decades have shifted from the manufacture of products to become brand producers, with enormous marketing, design, sponsorship, public relations and advertising expenditures. Such brand companies include many involved in travel and leisure: Nike, Gap, easyJet, Body Shop, Hilton, Virgin, Club Med, Sandals, Starbucks and so on produce ‘concepts’ or ‘lifestyles’. They are ‘liberated from the real-world burdens of stores and product manufacturing, these brands are free to soar, less as the dissemination of goods and services than as collective hallucinations’ (Klein, 2000: 22). Klein brings out the importance in this of the ‘global teen market’, with about one billion young people disproportionately consuming similar consumer brands across the globe (2000: 118–21). There are thus many ways in which huge numbers of people and places are caught up within the swirling vortex of global tourism. There are not two separate entities, the ‘global’ and ‘tourism’ bearing some external connections with each other. Rather they are part and parcel of the same set of complex and interconnected processes. Moreover, such assembled infrastructures, flows of images and of people, and the emerging practices of ‘tourist reflexivity’ should be conceptualised as a ‘global hybrid’ (Urry, 2003). It is hybrid because it is made up of an assemblage of technologies, texts, images, social practices and so on, that together enable it to expand and to reproduce itself across the globe. This is analogous to the mobilities of other global hybrids, such as the internet, automobility, global finance and so on, that spread across the globe and reshape and re-perform what is the ‘global’. For Bauman, the vagabond and the tourist are plausible metaphors for postmodern times: the vagabond, he says, is a pilgrim without a destination, a nomad without an itinerary; while the ‘world is the 28 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 28 09/06/2011 11:01:08 AM Theories tourist’s oyster … to be lived pleasurably’ (Bauman, 1993: 241). Both vagabonds and tourists move through other people’s spaces, they both separate physical closeness from moral proximity, and both set standards for happiness and the good life. According to Bauman, the good life has come to be thought of as akin to a ‘continuous holiday’ (1993: 243). There is thus no separate tourist gaze since, according to Bauman, this is simply how life is lived at least for the prosperous one-third within the new global order. Feminist analysts criticise the masculinist character of these metaphors that imply that there really can be ungrounded and unbounded movement. Yet different people have very different access to being ‘on the road’, literally or metaphorically (Wolff, 1993). Moreover, Jokinen and Veijola demonstrate the deficiency of many nomadic metaphors that are ‘masculinist’ (1997). If these metaphors are re-coded as paparazzi, homeless drunk, sex-tourist and womaniser, then they lose the positive valuation that they enjoyed within masculinist nomadic theory. Indeed, the mobilities of some always presuppose the immobilities of others. The mobile tourist gaze presupposes immobile bodies (normally female) servicing and displaying their bodies for those who are mobile and passing by. So Morris recommends the metaphor of the motel for the nature of contemporary mobile life (1988). The motel possesses no real lobby, it is tied into the network of highways, it functions to relay people rather than to provide settings for coherent human subjects, it is consecrated to circulation and movement, and it demolishes the particular sense of place and locale. Motels ‘memorialize only movement, speed, and perpetual circulation’ – they ‘can never be a true place’ and each is only distinguished from the other in ‘a high-speed, empiricist flash’ (Morris, 1988: 3, 5). The motel, like the airport transit lounge or the coach station, represents neither arrival nor departure. It represents the ‘pause’ before tourists move on to the next stopping-point along the extraordinary routeways of a ‘liquid modernity’, leaving behind of course those immobilised bodies subject to high-speed passing glances (such as the 50,000 employees at Chicago’s O’Hare airport: Gottdiener, 2001: 23). The analysis of globalisation has thus ushered in some momentous reconfigurations of the tourist gaze, both for the ever-mobile bodies intermittently pausing and for the immobilised bodies that meet in some of these ‘strange encounters’ of the new world order. Such encounters involve exceptional levels of ‘non-interaction’, or urban anonymity especially within the ‘walled cities’ or camps known as airports (Cwerner, Kesselring and Urry, 2009; Adey, 2006, 2010). 29 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 29 09/06/2011 11:01:08 AM The Tourist Gaze There has thus been a major shift from a limited range of tourist gazes in the nineteenth century to the proliferation of discourses, forms and embodiments of tourist gazes now. In a simple sense, we can talk of the globalising of the tourist gaze, as multiple gazes have become core to global culture sweeping up almost everywhere in their awesome wake. There is much less ‘tourism’ per se that occurs within specific and distinct kinds of time-space; there is the ‘end of tourism’ within the more general ‘economy of signs’. There are countless mobilities, physical, imaginative and virtual, voluntary and coerced as well as increasing similarities between behaviours that are ‘home’ and ‘away’ (Shaw et al., 2000: 282; Urry, 2007; Haldrup and Larsen, 2010). Tourist sites proliferate across the globe as tourism has become massively mediatised, while everyday sites of activity get redesigned in ‘tourist’ mode, as with many themed environments. Mobility is increasingly central to the identities of many young people, to those who are members of diasporas and to relatively wealthy retired people who can live on the move or spend much time in their cottage or holiday flat (Urry, 2007). And ‘tourism reflexivity’ leads almost every place – however apparently boring – to develop some niche location within the swirling contours of the emergent order (see Martin Parr’s collection of Boring Postcards, 1999). Elsewhere it is seen how notions of chaos and complexity can help to illuminate the unexpected, far-from equilibrium movements of social and physical processes that rage across the globe (Urry, 2003). These movements have unpredictably elevated ‘tourism’, even as it de-differentiates from leisure, shopping, art, culture, history, the body, sport and so on, from the very margins to a central place within this emergent global order. And as it does so here and there pockets of disorder remain, of openings and gaps, memories and fantasies, movements and margins. (MacCannell, 2001, argues something similar in his notion of the ‘second gaze’.) One thing that is sure about the emergent global order is that it is only at best a contingent and temporary ordering that generates its massive and complex disordering. In the next chapter we go back to the origins of this mass mobile world and examine some of the processes that engendered the exceptionally distinct mass tourism by the sea for the first industrial working class, which developed in the north of England. 30 01-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-01.indd 30 09/06/2011 11:01:08 AM 2 Mass Tourism Introduction The first example of mass tourism occurred among the industrial working class in Britain. The mass tourist gaze was initiated in the backstreets of the industrial towns and cities in the north of England. This chapter is devoted to examining why this industrial working class came to think that going away for short periods to other places was an appropriate form of social activity. Why did the tourist gaze develop among this industrial working class in the north of England? What revolution in experience, thinking and perception led to such novel and momentous modes of social practice? The growth of such tourism represents a kind of ‘democratisation’ of travel. We have seen that travel had been enormously socially selective. It had been available for a relatively limited elite and was a marker of social status. But in the second half of the nineteenth century there was an extensive development in Europe of mass travel by train. Status distinctions then came to be drawn between different classes of traveller, but less between those who could and those could not travel. We noted above how 1840 is one of those remarkable moments when the world seems to shift and new patterns of social relations become established. This is when the ‘tourist gaze’, that combining together of the means of collective travel, the desire for travel and the techniques of photographic reproduction, becomes a core component of western modernity. We consider later how in the twentieth century the car and the aeroplane have further democratised geographical movement. As travel became democratised so extensive distinctions of taste came to be established between the different places to which people travelled, which became markers of social ‘distinction’. The tourist gaze came to have a different importance in one place rather than another. A resort ‘hierarchy’ developed and certain places were viewed as embodiments of mass tourism, to be despised and ridiculed. Major differences of ‘social tone’ were established between otherwise similar 02-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-02.indd 31 09/06/2011 11:01:10 AM The Tourist Gaze places. And some such places, these new working-class resorts, quickly developed as symbols of ‘mass tourism’, as places of inferiority which stood for everything that dominant social classes held to be tasteless, common and vulgar. Explanations of the tourist gaze, of the discourses which established and sustained mass tourism for the industrial working class in the nineteenth century, tend to be over-general. Such developments are normally explained in terms of ‘nineteenth-century industrialisation’ (Myerscough, 1974). In identifying more precisely those aspects of such industrialisation that were especially important, attention will be paid here to seaside resorts whose development was by no means inevitable. Their growth stemmed from certain features of nineteenth-century industrialisation in Britain and the growth of new modes by which pleasure was organised and structured in a society based upon an emergent, organised and large-scale working class. We examine their development because this was the first mass tourism to occur. The Growth of the British Seaside Resort Throughout Europe a number of spa towns developed in the eighteenth century. Their original purpose was medicinal: they provided mineral water used for bathing in and drinking. It is not clear exactly how and why people came to believe in these medicinal properties. The first spa in England appears to have been in Scarborough and dates from 1626 when a Mrs Farrow noticed a spring on the beach (see Hern, 1967: 2–3; Blackbourn, 2002). Within a few decades the medical profession began to advocate the desirable effects of taking the waters, or taking the ‘Cure’. Various other spas developed, in Bath, Buxton, Harrogate, Tunbridge Wells and so on. An amazing range of disorders were supposedly improved by both swallowing the waters and by bathing in them. Scarborough, though, was distinctive since it was not only a major spa but was also by the sea. A Dr Wittie began to advocate both drinking the sea water and bathing in the sea. During the eighteenth century there was a considerable increase in sea bathing as the developing merchant and professional classes began to believe in its medicinal properties as a general pick-me-up. At that stage it was advocated for adults and there was little association between seasides and children. Indeed, the point of bathing in the sea was to do one good and this was often done in winter, involving ‘immersion’ and not what is now understood as swimming (Hern, 1967: 21). 32 02-Urry & Larsen-4212-Ch-02.indd 32 09/06/2011 11:01:10 AM Mass Tourism These dips in the sea were structured and ritualised and prescribed to treat serious medical conditions. Bathing was only to be undertaken ‘after due preparation and advice’ as the historian Gibbon put it (Shields, 1990), and was also normally undertaken naked. The beach was a place of ‘medicine’ rather than ‘pleasure’. Spa towns remained relatively socially restrictive. Access was only possible for those who could own or rent accommodation in the particular town. Younger summarises how: ‘life in the seventeenthand eighteenth-century watering-places resembled in many ways life on a cruise or in a small winter sports hotel, where the company ...
Purchase answer to see full attachment
User generated content is uploaded by users for the purposes of learning and should be used following Studypool's honor code & terms of service.

Explanation & Answer

Attached.

Surname 1
Student’s Name:
Professor’s Name:
Course:
Date:
Mass Tourism Chapter Summary
The chapter discusses the evolution of tourism from an individual pursuit to a wave-like
phenomenon that swept through Europe among the industrial working class. Urry, and Larsen
note that mass tourism came about due to a number of fact...


Anonymous
Just the thing I needed, saved me a lot of time.

Studypool
4.7
Trustpilot
4.5
Sitejabber
4.4

Similar Content

Related Tags