Applying the Urban Scene as Community Practice Approach in the Field

Abstract

The chapter is based on extensive fieldwork carried out in three Polish cities and serves as an exemplification of the application of the approach proposed in Chapter 2 to the study of community phenomena in contemporary cities. Although based on Polish data, the research develops the universal concept of socio-cultural opportunity structures and thus allows to explain communal processes beyond national contexts. The chapter starts with a discussion on challenges in investigating social practices and provides the details of the applied methodology. Then, selected case studies of different scenes as community practices are presented and discussed in order to illustrate how urban space and cultural consumption practices interact, leading to the development of different kinds of communities, or rather community practices. From bohemian and alternative lifestyle communities, through ecologists and urban activists to local communities, the role of scene in community practices is presented and analysed.

The main assumption that guided the research that will be presented next was that different scenes provide different socio-cultural opportunity structures that lead to different community practices. What then and how should be investigated in order to verify this assumption? Since urban community has been conceptualised as a nexus of cultural and aesthetic practices and their arrangements embedded in scenes, the research questions should refer to practices, arrangements and scene and how these elements interplay in providing socio-cultural opportunity structure for community practices. Questions of practice are questions of what, how, why and for what is being done and said in a scene. A given configuration of these elements defines a practice, and any change of elements or in their configuration—changes the practice. Questions about arrangements are questions about people, artefacts, organisms and things that are used or present in the enactments of the practices. Changes of these elements also change practice. Finally, questions about scene are questions about place, people in it, available practices of cultural consumption, and meanings of those practices (legitimacy, theatricality and authenticity). All these questions, as can be clearly noticed, overlap, as all the elements of the approach, namely practices, arrangements and scenes, are intertwined and interplay. In this chapter, I propose and test an empirical approach to study communities as cultural practices embedded in scenes. The aim of this chapter is therefore twofold: on the one hand, it provides exemplification of empirical application of the praxeological approach developed in the previous chapter; on the other hand, it provides some insights from the field, that demonstrate how different socio-cultural opportunity structures of scenes lead to various community practices. The chapter begins by addressing the difficulties associated with investigating social practices and then proceeds to explain the methodology employed in the study. Subsequently, several distinct case studies of scenes with different socio-cultural opportunity structures are examined and analysed to showcase the interaction between urban spaces and cultural consumption practices, ultimately resulting in the emergence of diverse forms of communities or, more precisely, community practices.

Methodology

Studying practices in general and nexuses of practices in particular brings about four major epistemological and methodological challenges, namely problems of reification, dualism, denomination and delimitation. Practices are considered realities independent of the individuals who carry them, as individuals are only “carriers of practices” (cf. Reckwitz, 2002). This implies serious limitations in interpretations of individual interviews as practices must not be reduced to individual experiences and declarations. Although practices are not particular performances but rules of these performances, they can be studied only indirectly by observing individual performances , which requires cognitive processes of deduction and abstraction, which might be biased both by practicing individuals and/or researcher. In the case of nexuses of practices the particularly difficult to face are problems of denomination and delimitation of practice, namely defining what practices should be studied, as well as defining limits of these practices. As shown in the previous chapter, community practices are the nexuses of practices of everyday life, like shopping, eating and leisure. The object of observation, therefore, becomes all the practices performed in a scene, for through them individuals perform community practices. “Arranging” these practices into nexuses from which community practices emerge, or in a sense “abstracting” from these practices into community practices, is largely the role of the researcher, but is not without the voice of the respondents themselves, who are able to embed the meaningfulness and purposefulness of the practices undertaken in the individual, but also in the community. Since, as shown earlier, these kinds of practices do not necessarily need to be made aware by those performing them at a given point in time, the research process requires inducing an appropriate degree of reflexivity in the respondent, so that he or she is able to access the building elements of the practice being undertaken rather than taking it for granted. Therefore, it is important to constantly question the respondent and not settle for obvious answers. The task of the researcher is to get to the deepest implicit understandings and teleoafectives of the practice that guide respondents.

The research methods used in the fieldwork included in-depth interviews combined with research walks (Nóżka & Martini, 2015) and visual ethnography (Schwartz, 1989, Pink, 2007, 2008) based on photographically documented observation, as well as “scenario game ”, which is a method that has been developed specifically for the project during the course of the fieldwork. In total, 112 individual interviews and 7 “scenario game” group interviews were conducted. The interviews with scenes regulars were free form in nature, with the researchers following the respondent in the interviews, but adhering to an interview guide. The guide was built around five main issues that were asked about: (1) the individual (the respondent), (2) the place, (3) the people and (4) the practices and its elements, and (5) reflection on the community. Interviews were either conducted during the walk or the walks were conducted at the end. Respondents were asked to guide the researcher around the scene. The respondent was encouraged to create their own narrative about themselves (their life/lifestyle/belonging) through the prism of the places that were visited with them. Questions about places, people and practices were repeated for each place visited. The course of the walk was recorded in an observation log. A very important element of the interview walk was the careful observation of the respondent. The observation logbook recorded not only information about the places visited, but also the respondent's emotions and non-verbal behaviour, impressions and feelings about the place, observed behaviour of other people present at the place under study, etc. In this way, the respondent's statements were embedded in the space and its meanings. The observations were then included in the transcriptions in the form of a commentary informing about the spatial context in which the statement took place and the accompanying emotions. The places visited were photographed. Any manifestations of community observed in the interview space (e.g. stickers, graffiti, specific scenes, etc.) were also photographed, in an attempt to collect as rich a visual material as possible.

In the first part of the interview, the respondents were asked to tell about themselves: where they come from, what they do, what they are like, what they like to do, where, how and with whom they spend free time, what kind of lifestyle they lead, and were then asked to show “their places”. This led to the second part of the interview dedicated to the respondents’ places. The respondents were asked to say something about the place, to describe what it was like, and to identify what made it special, what made it special to them, and why the respondents came here: what did they like about it, what bothered them about it, or what would bother them about it? Questions were also asked about how the respondents found the place, how they got there, and how they feel about it and how they felt when they were here for the first time. Further questions were asked about the people in the place. Respondents were asked if they knew any other regulars in the place or if they recognised their faces, or perhaps met them in other circumstances. They were asked to try to identify who the people in the place were and what they could say about them: what they are like, what they look like, how they behave, what brings them here, what they feel and think when they come here, is there something they have in common, are they similar in anything? Finally, respondents were asked about how they feel among these people, why in this way and what makes them that way and whether they have something in common or are similar to them in something. Then respondents were asked about the practices undertaken in the place: what they do most often in a particular place, why they do it, why they do it in that particular place, why in that particular way and not in another way? Questions were also asked about what other people who come here do in the place: how do they behave, why do they behave that way, why do they do what they do and why do they come here to do it? Next question asked about the common activities of the regulars, whether it happens that people visiting the place do something together. If the respondents pointed to some community activities, they were asked about details: how did it start, when, what came first, who was behind it, who started and who joined, how did it develop, what were the stages, what were people's reactions, who came and who was against, what were the obstacles and what were the enabling circumstances, what came next, what changed, why? Finally, the respondents were asked to give advice to a person who had never been to a place but would like to get into it: what should one do here, how should one do it, how should one look, what is allowed and not allowed, who is allowed and not allowed, are there any formal or informal orders and prohibitions, how to learn them or infer them? In the last part of the interview, respondents were prompted to reflect on community. They were asked whether they shared any ties, views or lifestyles with other people, with whom and what they related, how this manifested itself, why; whether it could be said that they belonged to a community; how this community happens, how it functions on a day-to-day basis, why people feel more connected to some and not to others and how this manifests itself; how one can recognise who is “one’s own” and who is not (who belongs to the same “community”/who has nothing in common with these people)?

The questions contained in the interview were filled in with content from the observations. The observation guidelines included similar elements to the interview itself. First of all, the researcher had to observe the respondents’ “tribal identifications”, their appearances and behaviours, the “markers”, the signals indicative of their identity and lifestyle, both in material form (e.g. clothing, accessories, general image, means of transport used, stickers on the scooter or laptop, drinks ordered, brand of laptop, etc.) and in immaterial form (way of greeting each other, way of smoking, attention to physical form, taste in music, etc.). The respondents’ gestures, tone of voice, vocabulary, facial expressions, or body language in different interview situations were also an important part of the observation. The researcher also had to make observations of the scene itself: its atmosphere and aesthetics, (e.g. the genre of music in the premises, the nature of the décor, stickers, inscriptions on the walls, etc.); the people, how they look and behave, what identity markers they use; the practices with their arrangements, i.e. what people do and how they do it; and the overt and covert rules that the researcher was able to decipher in the observed situation. The observations were recorded in an observation logbook, supplemented by photographic documentation.

Since individuals tend to take practices for granted, reaching their constitutive elements might turn out to be difficult to them. In order to deal with the limits of respondents’ reflexivity, a scenario game technique has been developed in the course of the research. The scenario game has the character of a projective group interview: in discussion, the group jointly works out the rules of practice and its arrangement and defines its boundaries. The interview is recorded on a voice recorder. The game involves three to five participants who are regular participants of the investigated scene. They are asked to help an acquaintance from Greenland, who has to recreate in their film a typical scene from the place they have just visited. This friend has never been to this place and has not seen it, nor has he seen the people who stay here, nor does he know what is done here and does not understand our culture. He cannot come here and see everything with his own eyes, yet he wants to shoot the scene as faithfully as possible, as if he knew the place from his own experience, as if he were here every day—so that no one would accuse him of falsity and everything would be authentic. The respondents’ task is to provide as much information as possible about the three essential elements of the script: the scenery, the actors and the action itself. In the description of the scenography, respondents are asked for information about the place and time of the action (where it is, what it is, what it serves, what is said about it, what we know about it, how it functions at this time), the decorations (what is the decoration of the place, what design, what details, what furnishings, what style prevails), sound and lighting (is it loud or quiet, what sounds the actors make, what is the light) and atmosphere (how can it be described or named, what emotions it evokes, how do the actors feel in it). When describing the actors, respondents are asked to describe their roles (who they are, how old they are, what they do, what they do here, why they come here, why they are here), their make-up and costumes (what they look like, what they wear, do they have a style), the props they use (what paraphernalia they have, what they consume, what objects they use) and their emotions (facial expressions, gestures, tone of voice, body language, what they feel, how they perceive this place and what happens in it). The description of action asks for information about elements such as what the actors are doing? (what are they doing here? what activities are they performing), how they are doing it (with what tools, in what position are they standing, e.g. if they are smoking cigarettes, how are they smoking, if they are talking, what are they talking about, how are they gesticulating, what is their tone of voice; if they are working, how are they working, what tools are they using, are they consuming something, how are they consuming it, etc.), why they are doing it (what brought them here, why are they doing it here and in this way and not in another way) and for what purpose are they doing it (what effect do they intend to achieve).

The group discusses each element of the scenario. Participants are asked to justify the opinions they make and to develop them. The researcher’s task is to moderate the group discussion in such a way that the participants discuss among themselves the elements of the practice and their arrangement, to make them go into more depth and detail about the different elements of the scenario, their explicit and implicit meanings and their relevance to the scene being described, and to pursue reasons and clarify possible disagreements among the participants. The jointly developed descriptions are placed on self-adhesive cards, which are then glued onto the corresponding cards—each element of the scenario has its own card. The completed cards are photographed by the researcher, who then moves on to the last element of the game: questions about possible modifications to the scenario. This element of the game helps to define the ‘limits’ of the observed practices, i.e. when a practice ceases to be one and the scene loses its authenticity. The researcher reads out the instructions and asks the group to think about possible modifications to each of the elements written on the sticky notes, but in such a way that they do not compromise the authenticity of the scene. Respondents suggest possible changes and replace the sticky notes with other sticky notes containing new suggestions—the sticky notes with the new suggestions are pasted several times (until the participants’ ingenuity is exhausted), each time discussing the changes they introduce. The researcher moderates the discussion in such a way as to determine the limits of the changes: which are possible and do not affect the authenticity of the scene and the correct course of action, and which change the essence of the scene and make what takes place in it inauthentic, incorrect or unlikely. The researcher also proposes changes themeselves and asks the participants how they affect the credibility of the scene. Finally, the researcher asks the participants to set limits to the modifications of the finished scene: what can be changed and what cannot be changed so that the scene remains authentic so that it is not falsified? What is most important and what is least important in the scene? The scenario game turned out to be very helpful not only in reaching deeper levels of reflexivity of respondents, but in delimitating limits of community practices as well.

Case Studies

In order to answer the research question on how socio-cultural opportunity structures of scenes translate into variety of community practices, the field research was conducted in several diverse scenes located in three Polish cities: metropolitan Warsaw (1.861,9 thousand inhabitants) being the administrative centre and capital of Poland, smaller Kraków (803,3 thousand inhabitants) being “cultural capital” of Poland, important academic centre and popular tourist destination and the smallest Katowice (280,2 thousand inhabitants) being (post)industrial city in the intense transformation process, the capital of the major industrial centre of Poland. These three cities differ in their scene’s dynamics. In my comparative research of scenes in Polish cities (Klekotko & Navarro, 2015), Warsaw appeared to be the most advanced in the processes of scenes development, while Krakow and Katowice lagged behind. The differences in the development of scenes in the three cities can be observed in the accompanying figures (Figs. 3.1, 3.2 and 3.3). These maps were a starting point that informed where to look for scenes to analyse (such maps, however, are not mandatory for the research, as one can look for scenes by observation of the city space): the patches of white colour on the maps inform about lack of scenes. Equipped with maps of the scenes and the support of local guides, the researchers set off to the field to have a closer look at the scenes and make a selection of cases.

Fig. 3.1

Legitimacy dimensions in Warsaw, Cracow and Katowice

Fig. 3.2

Theatricality dimensions in Warsaw, Cracow and Katowice

Fig. 3.3

Authenticity dimensions in Warsaw, Cracow and Katowice

Scenes are used to be measured in a quantitative way. The theory of scenes developed a sophisticated methodology called “mathematics of scenes” that allows for quantification of the defining dimensions of scenes in the form of scales that serve coding of practices of cultural consumption (operationalized as amenities, the data on which is collected from various databases like business registers, yelp or google maps) and calculation of various indices of dimension performance (check Klekotko 2019a and Klekotko 2021 for more on the mathematics of scenes). Such methodology is particularly useful for big-scale comparisons and impact analysis. However, scenes may be also investigated using qualitative methods such as observation. In fact, field observation is the most accurate method for identifying scenes, as it provides much more detailed information on cultural meanings of practices than unobservable and unverifiable quantitative data on amenities coming from various registers. The advantage of field observation is also that it allows one to observe more practices, as many practices of cultural consumption, such as skate boarding in the square, are not reflected in any databases or registers of urban amenities.

In order to determine character of scene, one must first observe practices of cultural consumption that compose scene and make an inventory of these practices by collecting detailed information on observed amenities and practices in writing form and photography. In the next step, one must determine cultural character of the practices observed, using the 15 cultural dimensions proposed by the theory of scenes. The researcher does not have to limit to these 15 dimensions and may add other cultural dimensions if necessary. In the case of the research presented here, the dimension of ecology has been added, as it appeared to be particularly important in determining the cultural character of some of the scenes under investigation. In determining the cultural character of practice, the researcher must evaluate conformity of this practice to the values described by a given dimension. It can be done by answering questions like the following: Is the practice legitimized by values of tradition or opposite to tradition? To what extent? Is the theatricality of the practice based on values of neighbourliness or opposite to them? To what extent? Is the authenticity of the practice based on values of locality or opposite to locality? To what extent? Such questions are asked for every practice and every dimension. The answers (“Yes, very much”, “Yes, to some extent”, “No”, “Opposite to some extent”, “Very opposite”) are then coded in order to determine which dimensions have the strongest performance in determining the cultural character of the practices and the scene.

Warsaw scenes are more numerous, they offer a greater variety of cultural consumption practices and are characterised by a higher consolidation and intensity of cultural meanings. In other words, in this city one can find relatively many scenes of a relatively distinct cultural character that reveal coherent and clear sets of values. Therefore, it was not difficult at all to find research-interesting scenes of community practices in Warsaw. It was more difficult in case of Cracow and Katowice. Cracow, although abundant with numerous amenities offering varied possibilities for cultural consumption, is dealing with massive touristification which seems to have standardisation effect on Cracovian scenes and some scenes are disappearing under these processes. The scenes of Cracow are less numerous than in Warsaw, less diverse and their consolidation is lower. The most difficult was to identify scenes in Katowice, where the offer of cultural consumption is modest, although very dynamically developing. This has its consequences in the development of scenes, which are not only the less numerous, but also characterised by the lowest degree of consolidation. The Downtown area, which is the richest in opportunities for cultural consumption, may be difficult to read unambiguously, as the exceptional density of amenities with the most varied purposes and aesthetic and cultural values introduces a kind of axionormative chaos, and the contradictory values cancel each other out. The scenes in Katowice are created rather by single points scattered in the space of the city centre or even in more distant corners of the city (sometimes forming a kind of network). For the theory of scenes, it is difficult to define individual amenities as a scene, as the notion of scene emphasises the importance of the interaction of different amenities in a given space. In the case of Katowice, however, these individual amenities are often the nucleus of emerging scenes and, above all, of the community practices that come into being within them.

In each city, various scenes have been selected for investigation, each of them reflecting different socio-cultural opportunity structures . Due to the limited space of this book, only 5 of them will be presented, each of them providing diverse insights about community life in investigated cities: (1) LalaLand type of scene, namely self-expressive, glamorous, transgressive and exhibitionist Plac Zbawiciela in the centre of Warsaw, (2) Old Mokotów scene in Warsaw with a particular mix of neighbourliness, locality, self-expression, egalitarism and charisma, (3) Jazdow scene in Warsaw marked by communitarian and transgressive values, (4) bohemian scene of Kazimierz in Cracow and (5) KATO club on Mariacka Street in the centre of Katowice, distinguished by its transgressive self-expression.

Old Mokotów (Warsaw)

The Old Mokotow scene is located in the north-western part of the Mokotow district adjacent to the City Centre, which has one of the highest levels of attractiveness of living conditions—taking into account the needs of three social groups: families with children, singles and the elderly. Its attractiveness is mainly influenced by a highly developed service, health and educational infrastructure and access to cultural venues, as well as good transport links with other parts of the city, bicycle paths and access to green areas. No wonder the district attracts new residents. Old Mokotow has been a particularly fashionable and popular location in recent years, enjoying high prestige. Although it is still a socially and economically mixed area (which is emphasised by the interviewees as an asset of the place), there is a clear increase in the number of affluent people, especially from the creative class.

The socio-cultural opportunity structure of the Old Mokotow scene has a distinctly local/neighbourhood character, which is mainly determined by the extremely numerous small shops and service outlets (local vegetable stalls, grocery shops, industrial shops, such as the lighting shop that has been here “since time immemorial” and has not succumbed to the pressure of competition from large-scale stores, the shoemaker, etc.). In these places there is a familiar atmosphere, customers get into conversations, greet each other and “are nice” and “helpful” to each other. The shopkeepers know their customers and their shopping habits, “remember what the husband bought in the morning” and “what may already be missing from the fridge”. The local/neighbourhood character is also evident in the numerous cosy and aesthetically pleasing cafés, which are frequented by local residents who appreciate their familiar, “lazy” and egalitarian character. The ecological dimension of the local scene is also evident. One can find an ecological bazaar here, as well as shops with subscribed food “from the local farmer”, plant adoption points, or such symbolic signals as pro-ecological stickers in the city space (“Mokotow free of plastic”), while cafes and restaurants offer almost exclusively vegan and vegetarian dishes. The presence of cultural institutions, such as the Nowy Teatr, the Iluzjon cinema and the grassroots neighbourhood cultural centre Mikromiasto, gives Old Mokotow a self-expressive character, while the high popularity of this part of the district among artists, especially from the theatre and film industry, including well-known actors, adds charismatic qualities.

A special place of exceptional importance for the Old Mokotow scene, emphasising its neighbourhood but also egalitarian character, is the New Theatre, or more precisely the square in front of the theatre building. It is described by interviewees as the “centre” of Old Mokotow, a “playground for young and old”, a “community centre”, a “place where everyone meets”: people from the world of theatre and film, artists, stars of alternative arts, musicians, the fashion world, neighbours, families with children and dog-walkers. It is a vast square, off-limits to car traffic, largely concreted, but surrounded by a lot of greenery that gives the impression of being wild (interviewees point out the weeds that are deliberately planted here). There are modern, minimalist sprinklers from which a mist of water rises, in which children like to play. In the summer, the seasonal café of the Wars and Sawa bistro, which operates in the theatre building, operates by the square. The bistro attracts interviewees with its vegan/vegetarian offer and good coffee, its modern décor and “community centre” character, as well as its large open space where children like to play. As the interviewees emphasise, there is no obligation to consume in both the premises and the summer café, free water is available and one can use the available space freely. The place is also pet-friendly, and they are also offered access to water. The space of the square and the bistro is considered by the interviewees to belong to the residents and they are disturbed by the activities of the theatre—they do not like the crowds of people from all over the city during the performance .

The main users of the structure and a particularly conspicuous group which, in many opinions, defines the character of Old Mokotow or even “imposes” a certain lifestyle on it are the residents aged 30–40, educated, with high social capital, often working as professions or ngo's staff, enjoying the relatively good financial situation. As an intellectual and financial elite, they are “characterised by a certain snobbery”, but “there is no nouveau riche flair”. Some of them have lived in Mokotow since they were born, for generations, others moved here a few or more years ago—all of them feel connected to the district, treat living in Mokotow as an important part of their identity and none of them can imagine moving out, although some express concern about whether they will still be able to afford a flat here due to the influx of wealthy residents. Respondents often refer to the “Mokotów identity ” that is supposed to characterise the users of the scene, which they define as a combination of the values of slow-life, ecology, locality and familiarity. They like to spend their leisure time in the area and do not like to move from it—if they can they work remotely, in one of Mokotow's cafes, and after work they meet and consume in the area. They value close relationships and a lack of anonymity and derive satisfaction from recognising others and being recognised by them, but at the same time they are individualists and display an aversion to pressure and control from others. They advocate to consume consciously and consume so. They try to live ecologically, they are vegetarians, and they are close to slow-life values. They like to walk or cycle around the area, carrying their favourite shopping bag and a bottle for tap water. Many of them have young children, who turn out to be an important theme in the interviews and strongly determine the consumption choices and lifestyles of this group of users of the scene, described by the interviewees as “Berlin parents”. They are characterised by relatively late parenthood (first child in their 30 s), an open, “laid-back” approach to child-rearing in the spirit of proximity parenting and Montessori. They don't give up their “pre-baby” lifestyle, they combine roles and look for other “Berlin Parents” to socialise with.

The scene of Old Mokotów is filled with extremely rich arrays of practices that extends from identity practices through sociability and cooperation to collective action . All these practices are founded in a coherent identity narrative dominated by the values of locality, neighbourliness, ecology and slow life. The respondents practice (and thus legitimise) ecological identity by shopping at the local farmer, local vendors and “ecological” shops, adopting plants, dining in vegan restaurants, moving by bicycle or walking, buying second-hand and interchange goods with others, avoiding plastic by carrying ecological bags, jars, wax-packs and cotton bags for food. Their love of localism and neighbourliness, on the other hand, is mainly practised by “spending time” in the neighbourhood in the company of other residents and users of the neighbourhood: shopping at local vendors or just peeking into shops or cafés to say hello, walking around the neighbourhood (alone, with dog, with children), meeting friends along the way and chatting with them, greeting “friends by sight”, making small-talk with them, working remotely from one of the local cafés or spending their free time there. The neighbourhood-local dimension of identity involves practices of sociability , which are particularly observable in the square of the New Theatre. The residents come here, among other things, to work, read a book, spend time with their children, drink wine or free water, sit and watch the neighbourhood out’ in the presence of other (albeit similar) people engaging in the same or similar meaningful practices. As we learn from the respondents, it is a place where one comes “just to hang out”. The New Theatre Square is “an extension of the living room at home”, where one “can come in a tracksuit”, not caring about one's appearance, and feel safe, familiar and at home. It is not without reason that individuals come here ‘in their tracksuit’ to read a book—they do it precisely to be among others and to celebrate neighbourliness with them. The boundary between identity practices and sociability is particularly blurred here, as the two practices overlap and reinforce each other, thus making the meaning frames of the practices undertaken more coherent (for example, the value of “familiarity”, “locality”, which underpin both the chosen lifestyle and the need to be with others). The high intensity and visibility of identity and sociability practices in Old Mokotow translate into various forms of practices of cooperation , whereby practices of celebrating organic identity or neighbourliness take a more organised form. Respondents talk about organising neighbourhood picnics and street celebrations: they decorate a square or street, prepare tables, bring food and invite passers-by to join in. They also organise a joint neighbourhood Christmas party for lonely people (they organise the space, raise funds for presents for seniors, prepare food at home, prepare a festive table, pick up and drop off seniors in their own cars). They also organise themselves to develop ecological identity practices: organise a grassroots flea market and clothes exchanges (“swaps”, organised for example in the premises of cafe Regeneration), as well as set up, supply and use neighbourhood libraries. Collaboration is facilitated, among others, by the Ferajna group, which has its own Facebook profile gathering a few thousand users from Old Mokotow, through which participants can initiate and coordinate their activities and which in itself is an interesting example of practice of collaboration and a platform for mobilisation. The profile is used not only to organise joint actions (collecting things for the needy, discussing tree felling and intervening), but also to exchange resources, which is extremely popular among the participants: items (giving away unused things in exchange for seasonal fruit, avocados or wine, borrowing things such as a drill or a suitcase for a trip) and knowledge and information (about the beauty salon, where one can buy fresh parmesan cheese on Sunday evening). The most active members of the group are middle-aged people, exchanging most often in order not to buy (to reduce consumption), to share, for ethical or practical reasons or to support local places, local people—it seems that the desire to save money is only one of the motivations and not the most important. The group covers a specific area and people from outside are often sent away—some say it is the practical aspect (walking distance), to others it is a question of identity (the place of residence defines a person—those from Lower Mokotow are already a different group in a social, economic, lifestyle sense). Relationships initiated online translate into meetings, action and acquaintances “in real life”. The practices of cooperation were made possible by the appropriate socio-cultural opportunities structure of the Old Mokotów scene, including above all the identity and social contact resources provided by a meaningfully coherent offer of cultural consumption. On their basis, the idea of a community of interests developed, which then triggered the need for cooperation and coordination of activities. The overlapping practices of identity , sociability and cooperation in the scene created a clear picture of community aspirations, values and territorial interests and led to the development of high self-awareness of the community and its collective identity . The collective identity in turn led to collective agency which allows for development of practices of social mobilisation. The participants of the Old Mokotów scene mobilise themselves, among others, in defence of nature and ecology in the neighbourhood. One such collective action took place in defence of the trees which were decided to be cut down because of the drought. The action took both the form of a protest in social media, the aim of which was to communicate dissent and “mobilise” the authorities to take appropriate action, community actions of watering trees and blocking access to trees threatened with felling, as well as a collective lawsuit against Warsaw authorities (the lawsuit was prepared by a lawyer from Mokotów, prompted during a discussion on a Facebook group by the question “Is there a lawyer here?”). Another example of collective action in Old Mokotow were actions of grass sowing or hedgehogs protection. The meaningful cohesion of community practices in Old Mokotow fosters social mobilisation for collective action . In other words, individuals must have developed the conviction that others value nature just as much, that Old Mokotow is a whole (a community) for which nature is an important value and a common interest, and that it is possible to mobilise this whole using the previously developed channels of communication (Facebook, the local shop, New Theatre Square). Therefore, the socio-cultural opportunity structure of Old Mokotow allowed for development of all four forms of community practices. These practices are meaningfully coherent with each other and overlap and thus create a coherent alternative framework for local identification based on the lifestyle choices of the practitioners. Subsequent “levels” of social integration become possible thanks to the existence of the previous ones, and the previous ones are strengthened by practices from the subsequent ones. Thus in the space of Old Mokotow, through the accumulation of meaningfully coherent community practices, a more permanent local community is created.

Jazdów (Warsaw)

The Jazdów Estate is a colony of 27 wooden Finnish houses located in the beautifully wooded Ujazdowski Park, in the very centre of Warsaw, in the immediate vicinity of the parliament and embassies. The cottages were built in 1945 as part of Finnish war reparations as temporary homes for workers from the Bureau of Capital Reconstruction—a total of 90 temporary cottages were built, which, according to the plan, were to stand there for 5 years. Over time, most of the houses were demolished and replaced by the French and German embassies, among others. In 2011, the authorities of the Śródmieście district decided to finally develop the estate for commercial and public investments and ordered the demolition of the surviving houses. A campaign to evict residents from the estate and the first demolitions began. The dismantling of the estate was opposed by a group of Jazdów residents supported by urban activists and community workers who recognised the architectural and cultural value of the estate and its unique potential. An informal group called Open Jazdów was formed, which began organising various cultural, social and educational events on the estate, thus demonstrating the estate’s potential and gaining the support of Warsaw residents in the fight to preserve it. It was proposed that some of the houses, which are no longer inhabited, should be handed over to NGOs, which would carry out cultural activities there that would be open to all Warsaw residents. Eventually, as a result of public consultation, the cottage was saved. In 2017, the urban layout of the estate was included in the municipal register of historical monuments. Today, 22 organisations are active in 14 cottages on the estate; the remaining cottages remain inhabited.

Organisations operating on the estate are selected through competitions for the best cottage development projects, and their mission, as we learn on the Open Yazdov community website, is to “bring different groups together to develop public space, create a social and cultural offer accessible to everyone, test in practice alternative models of financing and monetary-free exchange, grow gardens together and simply have a good time” (https://jazdow.pl/). Groups of activists and community members with different interests gather around the individual cottages: architects, gardeners, beekeepers, artists, traditional and experimental musicians and educators. There is a passing community centre, a sort of natural centre of the estate the community garden Motyka i Słońce, whose open and publicly accessible space with its tables, benches and shelters invites you to sit there and enjoy the sun. The proximity to nature, the idyllic character of the housing estate, the open access to the houses and their space, the rich cultural offer and the unconventional values and lifestyles of the activists gathered around the houses give the space the qualities of neighbourliness and egalitarianism on the one hand and transgression and self-expression on the other.

For the respondents, the estate is above all a “green enclave in the city centre”, an “oasis of peace and harmony”, a “treasure”, a “magical place” with unique buildings (‘“the little wooden houses’ are like a fairy tale”) and proximity to nature, a place that “never ceases to delight”, where it is easy to get lost if you don't know it. Some give it sacred qualities and supernatural powers, pointing out that the estate contains some of the oldest traces of settlement and places of worship. Visitors have a sense of participating in something unique in Europe (this is reinforced by the interest of people from around the world). They claim that living and acting in the settlement allows them to be “outside the matrix” and “outside the system” and is a kind of “remedy for the evils of the world”.

The neighbourly, self-expressive and at the same time egalitarian character of the estate attracts a special group of activists who cluster around the initiatives and organisations operating in the Finnish houses. These are generally young people, under 30, although we can also find a group of fifty-year-olds gathered around the community garden “Motyka i Słońce”. They come to Jazdów through various channels, sometimes encouraged by an activist friend, sometimes attracted by an event, and sometimes completely by chance. Some of them are socially active before coming to the estate, but many become activists only in Jazdów, enchanted by the uniqueness of the estate and inspired by the actions of others. Some are active on the estate on a regular basis, and others turn up occasionally to do something together, to help organise an event or action. Sometimes they come to Jazdów just to “hang out”, “recharge their batteries”, “get away from the hustle and bustle of the city”, take part in an event or meet their soulmates. They are a heterogeneous group in terms of occupation and life trajectories, but they are united by their strong, expressive characters, their courage to find their own path in life and resist traditional models and social expectations, and their unconventional thinking. They seek an alternative to the capitalist way of life, reject capitalist values and value the “non-systemicity” of Jazdów. They are heavily involved in the activities they carry out, they are selfless and helpful, “they will do something for you before you can ask them to”, because what they value most is the relationship with another human being. Often, they are without money, and they try to exchange goods and services without money, to use existing resources. Contact with nature is important to them, which they treat therapeutically. Nature has subjectivity for them, they choose an ecological lifestyle, they don’t eat meat, they don’t own cars, and they cycle around the city. Some of the legitimate residents of the estate, who still live in 13 of the 27 houses, are bothered by the lifestyle, the “light-hearted” approach and the group life of the cottage activists. The visitors of the estate, on the other hand, don’t always understand the actions of the “people from the houses”. They describe the place as for insiders (“people in linen trousers, running around barefoot”) and prefer to visit Jazdów during official events when the rules are clearer.

The estate is governed by its own rules, which are difficult for the interviewees to describe—as they emphasise, the people who come here “feel” them naturally, “they have the same filter”, which allows them to communicate with each other and find their way around the estate. At the same time—according to the regulars—you can see when someone is here for the first time, feels insecure, doesn’t know how to behave and you can see when they clearly don’t fit in here: “claimant people”, lacking empathy, “self-centred”, “someone who expects to be served”, “expecting a high standard, toilets, a bar”, “dressed up like for a disco”, “wearing expensive brands”, behaving loudly do not fit in here. The respondents treat the fact that not everyone finds their way here—more or less openly—as something precious. According to the regulars, the housing estate attracts weirdos, freaks and excluded people. They find openness and acceptance here. A homeless woman lives in an extension to a small house at the invitation of activists, and mentally ill people also turn up (perhaps because of the proximity to the psychiatric hospital).

Respondents talked enthusiastically about the wealth of practices they have the opportunity to undertake in Jazdów and, through them, realise the values close to them. These include: being in touch with nature (walking barefoot, sitting and lying on the grass, sleeping in a hammock strung between the trees, walking in the park, tending the greenery, cultivating the garden—watering, planting and transplanting plants, collecting vegetables and fruits, building birdhouses), being green (putting food leftovers on the compost heap, sorting rubbish, collecting rainwater, sharing crockery, cycling, gardening permaculturally, cooking and eating your own vegetables, collecting second-hand stuff from friends, building recycled Berlin-style DIY structures, e.g. water pumping swing), cooking and eating together (sharing and eating the harvest from the garden with gardeners and their friends, baking bread or pizza in the bread oven, bringing fruit and snacks for everyone, putting them on the communal table, sharing food in the food hall—leaving and taking food from the communal fridge and cupboard), celebrating non-systemicism (meeting participants of the climate march, preparing banners for pro-environmental marches, acting without permits, smoking cannabis, drinking moonshine), animating culture (inviting people to make music together, playing open concerts, listening to traditional music concerts while sitting on a wooden floor, building huts with children, making clay, inviting young architects or writers and jointly carrying out interventions in space), chatting (at every activity, “the day passes in conversation”, discussing serious topics and trivialities, discussing politics, world views—conversations usually take place in front of the huts, but also in any other place, over a cup of coffee, on the grass, people often touch and pat each other, the distances between them are small), but also working (often with a laptop, as in a co-working space, sometimes in a group, workshop-style over a flipchart, in the cottages, hiding a bit from others, because social meetings, conversations and the idyllic atmosphere are often not conducive) and taking part in formal community meetings (discussing on the forum the current issues and organisation of the Jazdow Estate, celebrating participative democracy, celebrating deliberation, dealing with bureaucracy).

“Wildness”, “idyllic”, “outside civilization”, “action-oriented”, “openness”, “lack of schemes”, “room for creativity”, “freedom from matrix”, “a place where one can socially and culturally express oneself” are only selected expressions of the respondents describing the essence of the Jazdów’s socio-cultural opportunity structure , a structure particularly attractive to “people with activist ADHD”, “anti-systemic activists”, people who, discouraged by the course of civilisation's development, seek an alternative to it in a return to nature and community, “light-hearted people” and “freaks”, as the uninitiated call activists. Few places so holistically allow practices whose teleoaffective structure is based on transgressive anti-capitalist, ecological and purely communal values. So strongly saturated with rich practices with an intense and legible structure of meanings and affects, the structure of socio-cultural possibilities has allowed the participants in Jazdow scene to develop all four forms of communal practices: from practising the identity of an anti-systemicist, environmentalist and activist, to practising communal sociability , to organising themselves and acting collectively in defence of the values of the community and the interests of the estate. These practices overlap, through them the identity of the Jazdów community develops, staggering loops, and the individual practices reinforce each other reciprocally. Above all, however, the Jazdów community appears as a case of a community “for itself”, for most of the practices observed in Jazdów are oriented towards the community as a value in itself, as a desirable form of organisation of social life and a point of reference for individual identities . Jazdów is also the only case in which respondents speak of themselves as a community explicitly and manifest a decidedly collective consciousness finding vent in collective agency and collective action . They define themselves as members of a community of “people who don't give a damn”, who fight to save Jazdów from redevelopment and who prove that living in harmony and closeness to nature is possible and desirable. Some of them are thinking of moving with their community to the countryside and creating their own utopian settlement along the lines of Jazdów.

Zbawiciela Square (Warsaw)

Zbawiciela Square is a circular square in the city centre, intersected radially by three streets: Marszałkowska, Mokotowska and Nowowiejska-Aleja Wyzwolenia. Among regulars, it is commonly referred to as Zbawix or Zbawik—somewhat (self-)ironically, jokingly, tongue-in-cheek and provocatively, as it misrepresents the official name of the square, which is taken from the Church of the Saviour located on the square. The regulars use many informal terms to describe the square, its users and what happens in it. The square is a clearly demarcated space, the interviewees have no doubts about where its boundaries are, although what is important to them is also what is nearby, in the streets leading away from the square. The square has a star-shaped layout and is filled with amenities that are diverse in meaning: in close proximity are a church, small shops and services, ministerial buildings, places for families with children (such as a children's bookshop), expensive boutiques, a cinema, theatres, a comedy club, a record company, numerous food outlets and restaurants offering diverse cuisine, including ethnic cuisine, bars as well as independent cafes and alternative clubs. The roundabout in the square is lined with expensive cars, convertibles that crank up the music and engine as they pass by. Therefore, there is a mix of values such as localism and neighbourliness, tradition, self-expression, transgression, exhibitionism, glamour, formalism, stateness or ethnicity.

Because of the rich and varied range of cultural consumption opportunities in the square, a whole cross-section of users appears, not only residents of the immediate neighbourhood, but also those living in more distant parts of the city. In the words of the respondents, “everyone intermingles”: “stand-up singers” (from the Comedy Club), “nuns and devotionals” (from the church), “the drunkest party-goers”, “lancers” and “ladies”, “sharp-wheelers”—“everyone fits in here”. The square's regulars are very diverse in terms of family situation, occupation and lifestyle. What they have in common is that they can afford to go out. Zbawiciela Square is a place they visit very often, daily or almost daily, usually for many years. They often know each other “from the square” and recognise each other, but at the same time they emphasise that “different people come to different places”: the square is an inclusive and heterogeneous space, and different places are often exclusive and naturally “segregate” users, so that, as the respondents say, “there are fewer random people in them”, which provides the regulars with a greater sense of “familiarity”. The square is safe, there are never brawls, fights or even pushovers, and there are no police in sight. This socio-cultural diversity and the peaceful coexistence of different user groups is, in the eyes of the respondents, one of the main advantages of the square, which gives it its unique character. As they emphasise, “there is everything here”, “there is a lot of tolerance and openness” and “even though the square is intimate, small it is very capacious in terms of meaning, hipster—and that's cool”. Respondents describe the square as a “free people's square” and say that they feel “European” there. Some interviewees (especially Plan B regulars) also emphasise the political nature of the square as a kind of manifesto of European values, recalling the now defunct art installation, the “Rainbow”, erected in the centre of the square, burned by nationalist circles and defended, rebuilt by left-wing circles and groups of residents. According to this group of interviewees, the rainbow was the “symbol of the square”, expressing its values such as diversity, equality, freedom and tolerance.

A special place in the square often described by interviewees as its “heart” are the two venues located next to each other: Charlotte and Plan B. The first is a Parisian bistro, glamorous, aesthetic and elegant, a place to go for breakfast, coffee and wine in the evening with friends, a place that respondents say is “very trendy” and “Instagrammable”. The second is “Berlin-style”, with a “grunge”, rebellious atmosphere—graffiti walls, creaky, dilapidated staircases, casual décor, coeducational toilets, alcohol as the main range (including cheap beer and vodka), original DJ sets, and tattooed young bartenders. It is, in the opinion of respondents, an important and distinctive place that “created the square”. The regulars of these two particular venues form distinct groups that coexist in the square in interesting ways. They are contrasting places, the clientele used to dislike each other, nowadays some say they flow from one place to the other, but nevertheless, they differ (and these differences they try to name): in Charlotte, young people dressed fashionably, expensively and branded in a stylised way vs. people of all ages dressed hipster, alternative, seemingly careless, often heavily tattooed and with bold hairstyles in Plan B; the former smoke cigarettes while assuming a glamour pose, the latter smoke ostentatiously careless; the former drink wine and prosecco, the latter beer and vodka; the former choose stylised Dutch bikes, the latter fast road bikes. As the interviewees emphasise, one place would not exist without the other in this way—for both, it is ennobling, they become expressive in comparison with those next to them—one looks down on the other. It is always very crowded in front of the venues; according to respondents, the “total mix of the city” gathers here: “from businessmen, ladies who want to get a rich husband, to various people from the Academy of Fine Arts, musicians, well, just people who come here to get high or not to get high, or to meet someone or to have a seat”, “there you have an absolutely total cross-section, what happens in Warsaw, it's there”, “such a bohemian scene, wonderful”. Respondents note that although the Square “doesn’t have any important cultural events going on at all” and there is “a bit more beer drinking” and “lounging around with a coffee”, “maybe some nice breakfasts”, the place serves to make contacts with “cool creative people” and brings them together. The late opening hours mean that “all roads lead to Zbawix”, and especially to Plan B—“it’s the only place of its kind in Warsaw, always full of people and always open for a long time, even during the week”, where bohemians are drawn to “because there’s nowhere else to go”, where numerous post-festival “after-parties” take place and where “people flock to continue the party”.—“if you don’t know where to go Plan B will always accommodate you”.

According to respondents, people come to the square because “there is something for everyone”, “there is always something going on here” (from early morning until late at night) and “you will always meet someone familiar here”. The most common practices in the square include looking for company (coming to the square often alone, when no one has been able or willing to go out, because there will always be some friends there, “when we come back from somewhere in the evening we always go under plan B, because you are sure to meet someone there”, meeting friends and greeting them by shaking hands or kissing on the cheek, greeting people known by sight, interacting and talking to strangers, making new friends: “every evening when I’m here I meet at least three more people”); walking (walking aimlessly around the square, usually in a group, repeating laps and looking at the people in the square, “I like to look at these people”); sitting (usually in a group, not only in venues, by the windows to the square, but especially outside, with the face turned towards the middle of the square, at pub tables or on benches, on steps and curbs, on the steps of the church: “it’s about sitting here, to have a beautiful view here, and to watch people pass by, and to contemplate and have reflections”); chatting (respondents observe that in different premises participants chat about different topics); drinking coffee during the day and alcohol in the evening (cheap beer in Plan B, more expensive in other venues, wine in Charlotte or Heritage, less often vodka and shot in Plan B); eating (in an informal yet aesthetised atmosphere, eating in venues and on the street, often in a group, one can have Thai street food and Italian cheeses to go with the wine, expensive sushi and cheap casseroles, in each place one eats in plain sight, so in a non-accidental way, assuming one meets someone); partying (concerts, cultural events happen here, but usually the partying consists of consuming large amounts of alcohol, smoking cigarettes, standing or sitting in the square, talking);” flaunting” (“one comes a bit to show off”, “it constantly revolves around such showing off”, “there is a flaunting here”, “these people know that others will see them here”, “one comes here to look and be seen”). In Plan B, the practices of “politicking” and self-organising can also be observed—associated with the rainbow and “European values”, Plan B attracts politically active people with compatible world views: participants of marches, protests, defenders of minorities, etc., who “come down here after actions to chat”. Other customers join in, and the conversations sometimes lead to joint action, sometimes very spontaneous—such as preparing a banner on cardboard “on the fly” and taking it out into the street together to protest against violations of democracy. Plan B regulars also organise themselves to help others (e.g. refugees, orphans, “there are many such actions here”). Sometimes aid actions are initiated by the owners and employees of the club, sometimes by the clients themselves, very spontaneously, as respondents claim: “we are able to get together”, “there is always someone who can help at a given moment”, “there is a good energy here, everyone wants to help”, “sometimes someone throws a slogan in a conversation and that is enough [to initiate joint action]”.

The specific socio-cultural opportunity structure of the Zbawiciela Square scene defines this place primarily as a site for identity practices and sociability . The identity dimension of the observed practices takes on particular overtones here, for, as was often reiterated in the interviews, the scene of Zbawiciela Square serves to “show off”, to ostentatiously demonstrate one’s distinctive identity . Individual groups gather around specific locations in the square and practice their identities there, looking down on the other users of the square. This peaceful despite extreme differences co-presence of the different tribes allows the actors to enjoy experiencing an aesthetic distinction that marks their belonging and gives their practices a unique recognisability. The unique distinctiveness of different groups in the square and their places at the same time creates excellent opportunities for contact with tribal members and fosters interaction. As an “obvious meeting place” for both friends and close in terms of lifestyle strangers, the scene creates opportunities for social integration, creating and maintaining personal bonds. At the same time, it is a place for experiencing comunitas. Although the Saviour Square scene is dominated by practices of identity and sociability and these practices are not observed to evolve into a community for oneself, the Plan B space is an interesting exception. The socio-cultural opportunity structure of the place is based on transgressive values, which, combined with the high mutual recognition of actors and their identities , both generalised and personal, seems to serve the social mobilisation of practitioners. Described by respondents as a place of “good energy”, where one meets “people always ready to help others” and ‘open to humanity’, but also as a place marked by politicality (European and equality) and known for activism, it provides resources for collective agency and mobilisation.

Kazimierz (Cracow)

Kazimierz in Krakow is a typical example of revitalisation and gentrification, in which artists and culture have played a key role. Kazimierz, which was an independent city until the end of the eighteenth century, is part of the central Old Town district. It is a neighbourhood steeped in history and tradition, the north-eastern part of which was inhabited by Jewish people before the war, so the area is filled with synagogues and Jewish cultural monuments, giving it an ethnic and traditional character. After the war, Kazimierz declined and enjoyed a rather bad reputation, which it earned through dilapidated buildings, poverty and high crime rates. At the turn of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, numerous artists began to be attracted to Kazimierz, looking for the “equivalent of Montmartre” there, initiating revitalisation processes. As revitalisation and gentrification progressed, Kazimierz became one of the most active entertainment and leisure centres, both for Cracovians and tourists, gaining a reputation as hipster, niche and original. In a common opinion, shared by the respondents, Kazimierz attracts people who think and work differently, ready to devote themselves to their artistic or craft passion. This is why there are so many original shops, craftsmen's shops and galleries that make up the self-expressive aura of Kazimierz. The neighbourhood abounds in various types of cafes, clubs, pubs and discos offering diverse aesthetics and attracting different clientele. Characteristic of Kazimierz is the accumulation of bars and cafes around Plac Nowy (New Square), which serves as a meeting point and catering facility for pubgoers. During the day, from Monday to Saturday, it is a marketplace—the Flea Market, on Saturday there is an antique market and on Sunday a clothes market; it is also a place where pigeon fanciers meet and trade. This single square thus fulfils many diverse functions, catering to different tastes and needs and combining various values: tradition, locality, neighbourliness, ethnicity or self-expression.

Although the extremely rich offer of Kazimierz attracts a wide variety of users, the image of Kazimierz as a bohemian district still prevails. Kazimierz’s bohemia is concentrated around several establishments that have already gained an international reputation and are written about in guidebooks. Colours, Alchemy and Singer are establishments that appeared in Kazimierz along with the bohemia, right at the beginning of the district’s revitalisation processes. All three are concentrated on Plac Nowy or in close proximity, creating a kind of bohemian basin. The Mleczarnia, Talking Dog or Eszeweria, also known for their artistic atmosphere and bringing together poets, writers, actors, musicians, painters and intellectuals, are also located nearby. In addition to artists, the designated venues are favoured by freelancers and the creative class (who often work in these venues during the day), intellectuals, students, especially of the humanities and social sciences, and students at the nearby elite high school. There are also a lot of tourists, with Alchemy and Singer in particular attracting crowds of tourists who come to these venues to take part in a kind of special performance and to experience the proximity of bohemia: to absorb the special bohemian aura surrounding these venues and to commune with authentic artists. As one respondent put it, Kazimierz in general, but the indicated venues in particular, is a place frequented by “artists, those who want to be artists or those who like artists”.

The indicated places are recognised by the respondents as “cultural”, ennobling places that are chosen by an educated and culturally oriented, independently thinking person. Despite the overload of tourists and the increasingly widespread cheap entertainment, in the perception of most respondents Kazimierz does not attract “random people”, deprived of aesthetic sensitivity and insensitive to the particular authenticity of the district. Particularly the places mentioned by the respondents do not tend to be frequented by “just anyone”. The regulars are rather people looking for authenticity rather than cheap commercialism, fighting for the “right to be themselves” and “not succumbing to the pressures of cultural homogenisation”. The latter are unlikely to understand the phenomenon of places like Alchemy, Colours or Singer, which is why they choose venues with a different aesthetic. There are, however, claims that with the growing popularity of Kazimierz and its increased tourism, the district is losing its unique character and is turning into a regular entertainment district that attracts everyone. This is due to growing range of cultural consumption options, increasingly including less picky tastes and needs. In such venues, which are not associated with or reputed for artistic communities and attract a less fussy clientele, tourists and “bystanders”, as respondents report, it is more difficult to “recognise one’s own”, so the practice is to avoid such places. In the words of respondents, “one goes where there is a vibe and artists”, “the place must have a vibe”, “artists have their own places”. Respondents refer to them as “ours”, indicating that this is not their individual choice, but the choice of the whole group—by belonging to a group, places become “ours”. At the same time, there is a clear awareness of one's own agency in giving meaning to these places, which is often accompanied by an awareness of one's own attractiveness and the resulting kind of pride and satisfaction in being admired, viewed like a living exhibit. This is why tourists are welcome as long as they come to admire the “real”, “our” Kazimierz, but not when they try to experience Kazimierz in their own way, without paying respect to its bohemian tradition.

What makes the indicated venues unique and determines their bohemian intelligence and artistic aura is, first and foremost, the fact that they all have cultural activities and are linked to artistic communities, either directly through the owners or through their commitment to cultural development. The venues host concerts, meetings with authors and exhibitions. The venues are also characterised by a specific atmosphere. As the interviewees themselves describe the venues in question, they have a “basement” atmosphere and are “enclaves of decadence”. The basement and decadence of these venues is reflected in their specific décor. The premises are dark, brightened by candlelight, the walls are covered with colourful wallpaper, there are old tables and chairs “as if collected from attics”, “each stool is different”, “napkins from grandma’s table”, antiques and trinkets. They also have an aesthetically distinctive clientele, although interviewees find it difficult to describe the style of the regulars, as they are not distinguished by any clear pattern: rather, they try to be original—‘originality’ is the term most frequently used. They tend to wear casual but tasteful clothes, many have their own unforced style, an artistic flair that is difficult to define but easily recognisable. There are no “corporate uniforms”, “fashion freaks” or “disco trash”, but there is a “love of vintage style”. Kaziemiarz’s bohemian scene thus has a decadent character that defines its authenticity. This decadent-basement atmosphere of Kazimierz, together with its increasing commercialisation and tourism, do not find the same admiration among the part of the bohemia usually referred to by the respondents as the “younger generation”, although this is a kind of simplification, because in both groups one can find representatives of different generations. What they have in common is rather that they usually do not live in Kazimierz and are looking for more “alternative” content and forms of cultural expression. They tend to gather around venues located outside Kazimierz and less visited by tourists, and often join in the fight against tourism in Krakow.

Among the practices undertaken in Kazimierz, respondents mention above all the practices they describe as “using the city”, emphasising that they are typical of artists, as the artist “should go out”. This includes consumption and social activity on the square and in the establishments visited, which one has “always gone to”, as well as participation in culture. Practices in Kazimierz therefore include: going for a glass of wine or a coffee, often without an appointment, knowing that one will meet someone or chat to a familiar bartender who will offer water or coffee; sitting down for a moment for a coffee at a table overlooking the square/streets and observing the “life of the neighbourhood”; sitting down with friends for a coffee (there is always someone to talk to); interacting with and chatting to strangers or people known by sight; walking around the neighbourhood and taking a detour to meet someone; going out with fellow actors after performances to “our places”; spending long hours of the night in company; dancing on the tables at the Singer; singing (because “artists like to dance and sing”); talking about “common matters”, complaining about changes in Kazimierz and reminiscing about places that are no longer there, working remotely on a laptop, with coffee; visiting exhibitions, listening to concerts, attending the openings of new venues run by artists and the cultural events taking place in them, meeting familiar faces there, as there is usually a regular group of guests at these types of events. Respondents admit that they feel an inner compulsion, an imperative to attend cultural events (“I feel bad if I don’t go somewhere”). Those who live in Kazimierz or its environs, or who work or study nearby and thus come here every day at different times of the day, undertake a slightly broader range of practices, fulfilling also the needs of everyday life in Kazimierz: buying bread at the bakery, doing the grocery shopping at the market, at the last surviving butcher’s shop in the district or at Biedronka (the last grocery shop, which thanks to this fact has also become a meeting place for the residents), using the services of local craftsmen and shops (metal shop, paint shop, etc.), “running the daily errands”, etc. Respondents care very much about the survival of local shops and services, so they not only use them regularly themselves (so they know the owners), but also promote them among friends.

These practices are used for identity practices (building a bohemian identity) and sociability (being among others). Kazimierz, in the respondents’ statements, is “the perfect place for an artist” or “someone who wants to live like an artist”. Respondents recognise other members of the scene with whom they share a lifestyle, described as bohemian, but they also point out that people leading such a lifestyle are not necessarily “real artists”, but can afford to “live like artists”. By “live like artists” they mean dedication to creative or intellectual activity, “use of the city”, non-conformism and “love of unlimited freedom”. The sense of community, however, grows primarily out of the profession— “artists rotate among artists”, practising personal communities that are homogeneous in terms of their profession, which to a large extent defines their lifestyle. Many members of today's bohemian community in Kazimierz have known each other personally for years and share a community of experience in developing the bohemian practices that built Kazimierz’s identity . They got to know each other both in the workplace, at various cultural events, and in Kazimierz itself, usually in the venues mentioned above. Although Kazimierz is changing a lot today, flooded by crowds of tourists and increasing commercialisation, causing the disappearance of many places important to the community (galleries, local shops, etc.), the “cult places where artists hang out” persist. It is still possible to make new acquaintances and “enter the circle” in them. In the respondents’ statements, one observes a specific variety of sociability practices oriented towards building and practising personal community and social capital, in which, besides the affective dimension, the rational element of the teleoaffective structure plays an important role: the respondents emphasise the importance of social contacts for creative activity (“artists need to meet each other”). As one respondent said, Kazimierz is “an important place for artists if you want to be in the profession”. The bohemian scene of Kazimierz thus serves to network artists and maintain contacts. However, there is no shortage of statements referring to the satisfaction of experiencing comunitas and the emotional well-being that “just being” in the scene evokes. Respondents derive pleasure both from the many spontaneous social contacts made possible by this particular scene (“you meet someone you know and it immediately makes you feel better”) and from interacting with other members of the scene, often strangers or those one only recognises by sight, with whom they feel a bond based on similarity of aesthetic choices and lifestyles. Although respondents acknowledge a community, this community does not seem to extend beyond similarities in identity practices and the practice of sociability . A strong individualism prevails, the “self” being the centre of the practices undertaken. As collective identity is not formed, collective agency, which is a condition for mobilisation, does not develop either. This is probably why the community described does not mobilise to defend the traditional character of Kazimierz from tourism, the effects of which it so often complains about, although the fascination with diversity, the great openness and tolerance of this group, as well as the aforementioned predilection for being an “exhibit” play an important role here, influencing ambivalent attitudes towards the fight against tourism.

Kato (Katowice)

Kato is located in the city centre on Mariacka Street, which is extremely popular with the people of Katowice (and beyond), and which has a recreational character and is the centre of nightlife. The Mariacka street is probably the best known space in Katowice with a significant scene-forming potential. Renovated over a decade ago, it has become a pedestrian zone filled with cafés, bars, clubs and other forms of entertainment that are clearly part of the expressive-distinctive, “hipster” atmosphere. Although in recent years the offer of cultural consumption on this street has become highly commercialised and standardised, its origins are associated with a space for debate, artistic creation, expression and social mobilisation. KATO is one of the first venues on Mariacka Street with which the transformation of the street and the entire city began: it was a perpetrator of intellectual ferment around Katowice's cultural future and a platform for consultation of various social actors. Described by respondents as “the first hipster place in Katowice”, “an alternative place”, “Katowice’s Plan B”, from the very beginning it was much more than a bar—it combined beer sales with cultural animation, urban activism and promotion of the city and the region. It hosted, among other things, the famous yet niche concerts in the window animating the street (artists performed on a stage located in the window of the premises, facing the street, on which the audience, including quite a random one, gathered), lectures, meetings with authors, art exhibitions by local artists, fashion fairs by local designers, film screenings, including documentaries on architecture and urban planning, city debates, including with representatives of the local authorities (there was even a debate of the candidates for mayor of Katowice), meetings of NGOs, pre- and after-parties of many festivals and cultural events in the city. In the summer, the garden of the Kato bar was used as a venue for a food bazaar with food from local producers, which was frequented by the local neighbours, etc. Today, Kato is—according to our respondents—an “urban brand”, a “local icon”, a place considered “cult”, attracting more than just the city's residents. Compared to other places in Mariacka, Kato stands out for its transgressive self-expression and local authenticity. This is determined not only by the somewhat ‘perverse’ atmosphere of the Kato bar, but above all by its rich offer of cultural consumption oriented towards niche tastes and the construction of a local identity .

According to respondents, Kato is a “unique place”: “already from the entrance, you just have to look around the room and hear the type of music, and you can suspect that it will not be like in the ‘usual places’ on Mariacka”. Kato’s décor is minimalist, austere and industrial, a little ‘dirty, although it’s not dirty’, ‘as if it were undergoing renovation’: the walls are clad in OSB, one of them is covered with a mural, there are neon signs on the walls, there is a long staircase along the façade where customers sit, and one can also sit in one of the two rooms at minimalist black tables. In one of the rooms, there is a stage by the window where customers also sit when nothing is going on. The “hipster” character is added by the lamps in the garden, the pallets and beer crates on which people sit, or the deckchairs from which you can watch the street. Specially selected niche electronic and techno music plays on the premises. In the perception of regulars, Kato's décor reflects the character of the city and the region: industrial, sometimes a little coarse, not conforming to generally accepted standards of beauty, but attractive in its own original way. Respondents appreciate the fact that the place “does not try to be beautiful by force”, “does not pretend to be something it is not”, has its own casual and unobvious style, breaking the aesthetic standards. They see the décor of the premises as a kind of manifesto to “be yourself and be proud of it”. They think similarly about the city: “We are not Krakow or Wroclaw, we are someone else and someone just as interesting just in a different way”, “we don’t have to compare ourselves to others because we are ourselves”, “We are not beautiful but we are sexy”—they said in interviews, repeating the famous Berlin slogan. According to many interviewees, Kato is one of the first places that started to promote pride in Katowice and created a kind of fashion for the city, hitting the needs of a large group of residents.

According to the respondents, the atmosphere of the pub profiles the clientele: it is supposed to scare off both those looking for a place “to get drunk quickly” (higher prices, lack of popular beers, more expensive kraft beer on offer) and those looking for elegant places “to show off”—for them, Kato is “an ugly place with ugly techno”. According to the respondents, Kato is not frequented by people wearing luxury brand clothes, there are no “artificially beautified blondes”, “corporate people, suits, stilettos, white minis, boots”, “obsequious men in shirts hoping to pick up, alpha males”, people aiming for cheap, indiscriminate entertainment “rather than talking about what’s on at the cinema”, “drunken partygoers”, “tracksuits”. Despite repeated declarations of openness, equality and a reluctance to judge others, respondents clearly distance themselves from groups with different tastes and motivations that they perceive as inferior or worse, expressing a reluctance to be among such people: “Kato sifts out all those people you wouldn’t want to meet who you meet in other bars”. Unlike most venues on Mariacka, one won’t meet “random people” here and for this reason Kato is a “safe choice”. It is mainly frequented by freelancers (designers, architects, artists, people associated with the Arts Roundabout, the Academy of Fine Arts), urban activists, and amateurs of alternative electronic music. The place is considered tolerant towards minorities, LBGT couples feel at ease here, which, according to respondents, “for people who value tolerance is a sign that this is the right place for them”. The tolerant atmosphere also attracts Erasmus students, who feel safe here.

Respondents emphasise that Kato’s unique, homely atmosphere is also created by the fact that they meet people there who are similar to themselves. They describe them as “people from the same fairy tale”, “similar people who understand the climate of the city”, with similar aspirations, and a common world view, “humanists”, people “with open minds”, “positive”, tolerant and open to other people, “conscious Europeans”, who “have already seen a bit of the world and have a different approach”, who tend to have left-wing values and believe in equality, who also share common interests and similar lifestyles, such as an interest in electronic music and a love of “new sounds”, active participation in the artistic and cultural life of the city, a preference for more niche cultural content (e.g. studio cinemas), connections to the world of art and culture, active “use of the city”, interest in urban affairs. Respondents feel “familiar”, comfortable, safe, “relaxed”, “stress-free”, “like at a house party” in this environment, as if “they are among friends who share similar values and are not judgmental”. They will usually meet familiar faces here, someone they can sit down and talk to, and they know they will have a nice time here. The sense of similarity and bonding with other regulars is reinforced by the fact that the people of Kato also intermingle in other places in Katowice associated with culture, the activist community or the alternative music scene: all these scenes overlap.

Asked about practices carried out in Kato, respondents point to “sitting, chatting and drinking beer”. However, as they add, “there is something more” in these practices, as people come to Kato “not just to have a beer”, but, first of all, to have a good time with good music and good company, to talk about culture, art and urban life, to listen to a concert of electronic music, to watch an exhibition, to attend a film screening, an author’s meeting or a debate on important urban issues. This “cultural dimension” of having a beer in Kato seems very important to interviewed practitioners—as they claim, it makes it different to having a beer in “regular places” (“we drink beer and they drink beer but it is not the same”). When it is warm, the regulars like to sit outside on the steps and watch the people walking along the street. Some take part in Thursday runs organised by a former Kato employee and return to Kato for a beer after the run. Kato is also, for many, the “starting place” before going to a dance party at one of the alternative music clubs in Katowice, which together with Kato create an alternative electronic music scene in Katowice. People also come here during festivals held in the city to meet the participating artists, who come down to Kato after the performances and indulge in lively discussions here. Although the most common practice is to visit Kato in the company of friends or colleagues (members of the personal community ), and rarely one comes to Kato alone, it is common practice to meet new people, for example in the toilet queue or for a cigarette outside, to socialise on the landings and stairs, which—due to the lack of tables—“generate a kind of conviviality”. Kato also serves networking. It is here that the idea for the association “Moje Miasto” was born, bringing together people with a similar vision of the city.

As can be seen, the socio-cultural opportunity structure of the Kato scene allows respondents above all to enact practices of identity and sociability . Respondents emphasise that the Kato is a “self-evident place” for them, the only place in Katowice that makes them “finally feel at home”, where they “can be themselves”, “do what they like and the way they like to do it”, thus indicating the unique importance of the scene for the construction of their own identity . In defining the essence of the uniqueness of the Kato’s opportunity structure of Kato’s, they extremely often refer to the example of Berlin and the Berlin model of urbanity as a desirable lifestyle that connects the participants of the scene and defines the identity . As we have seen above, the respondents unmistakably recognise the similarity of the repertoires of practices of the other members, most notably the community of teleoaffective structures oriented towards the practice of an urban lifestyle and the identity of the “new bourgeoisie”. They describe the community of Kato as a community of people who are looking for opportunities to express and practise their lifestyle based on shared practices of distinctive cultural consumption and who feel there is a lack of such opportunities in Katowice, hence they often get involved in different kinds of “city-making” activities, participate in debates about the city and support initiatives aimed at development of urban character of their city, by taking part in various events and consumption practices offered by Kato and other overlapping scenes. They enjoy practicing sociability in Kato both by practicing their personal communities in the friendly atmosphere provided by the aesthetics and ethics of the place as well as by experiencing presence of other members of the neo-tribe which seems to make them feel empowered. They often consider Kato as a place for propagating the model of urbanism developed by involved activists and their followers, from which others can learn—this way they feel a part of a kind of “mission” that Kato is to carry out. The intelligibility of Kato and other overlapping scenes allows for recognition of common interests in creating the urban character of Katowice, while the safe context of the scene facilitated interactions and led to new acquaintances which helped to build a network of urban activists who are now important actors in city development.

Main Findings

The case studies presented provide a description of different situations of urban commonality. In the material presented, we can observe all the varieties of communities discussed in Chapter 1: both neighbourhood communities building local identities , networks and personal communities, and communities based on a sense of belonging and shared cultural awareness (neo-tribal, lifestyle). They are all based on, emanate from, and are rooted in the community practices (identity , sociability , collaboration and collective action ) described in Chapter 2. The richness and complexity of the community practices observed in the cases varies and is a result of the nature of the resources offered by the available socio-cultural opportunity structures and their dynamics. Although most of the cases are examples of community in itself, there was no lack of examples of community for itself. The main mechanism for the evolution of practices from a community in oneself to a community for oneself is the transformations within the teleoaffective structure, which are in turn the result of the dynamics of the socio-cultural opportunity structure available in the scene. There is a feedback loop at work here, for dynamic structures allow practices to develop, which reciprocally develop structures.

Underlying all the observed community forms are identity practices. They were observed in all the cases. They seem to provide the foundation and starting point for the other community practices that develop around the practice of individual identities . The evolution of individual identity practices into collective community forms is facilitated by a shared scene, which, by providing coherent meaningful resources for the practice of individual identities , becomes a site of hanging together and community development. The starting point for the development of urban community forms is the intelligibility of the scene, which, through shared meanings, enables specific practices to be undertaken and practitioners to recognise each other. A particularly important dimension of the intelligibility of scene is its distinctive aesthetic that creates atmosphere and defines its affective structures. From the interviews, it appears that this is the first and probably the most important “filter” that informs the nature of practice-arrangement bundles and determines the take-up (joining or not) of the practices available in the scene, thus selecting practitioners. Respondents perceive particular scenes as repulsive or attractive, judging the nature of the available intelligibility structures (which they can name, e.g. as a place for Europeans, a place for free people, a place for open people) and identifying participants as “their own” or “strangers” extremely easily and quickly. Once joining the scene and engaging in its practice-arrangement bundles, agents embody tacit knowledge and conform to community explicit rules and general understandings. Once joining the practices available in the scene and recreating its configurations of elements, they acquire proficiency in being a member of a community and constructing an identity , while creating and recreating the community as a nexus of practice-arrangement bundles.

Individual identity grows out of the experience of performances , which make up the individual's trajectory of practices and determine the repertoire of practices that the individual develops. Without performances , the individual cannot define or develop their identity. Identity is not a mental project but is enacted in practices—in the repetition of bodily doings and sayings. A particularly striking example illustrating the importance of the performance experience in the formation of identity as a trajectory and repertoire of practices is the case of “Berlin identity ” observed primarily in the case of Kato in Katowice, but also in Old Mokotow in Warsaw. Interviewees from Kato and Mokotow often pointed to the experience of travelling to Berlin, which somehow shaped their idea of the desired model of urbanity and taste for particular urban lifestyles. They found the practices they observed and undertook during their Berlin trip so attractive and rewarding that they decided to bring them back to their hometowns. By performing Berlin's practices of urbanity, the respondents build their own repertoires and trajectories of practices and identity out of them. In the case of Katowice, a large group of practitioners was observed who not only practise “Berlinness”, but also actively seek to develop a socio-cultural opportunity structure for “Berliner” identity practices. The performance experience on which identity is built can initially also be mediated, as in the case of the bohemian community of Kazimierz. The surveyed participants in the Kazimierz bohemian scene often referred to Montmartre in Paris as a model for the “artistic lifestyle” practices developed in Kazimierz in the 1990s. Although most of them had not been to Montmartre before, they shared a common idea of the lifestyle of the bohemians there, based on accounts of different origins. This mediated experience provided a point of reference for developing local repertoires of practice and artistic identities based on them. Kazimierz was to become Kraków's Montmartre. However, it was only the satisfying personal performances of the developed practices that built the identity of the actors and the place itself, determining its authenticity. The imagined bohemian community had to be enacted in everyday practices in order to become a reality, so ultimately the source of Kazimier’s identity lies in the direct experience of performances , during which various configurations of elements were created and recreated, thus developing bohemian practices as entities with a relatively permanent configuration (“it’s been going on for years, the actors change, but the habits and places don’t”). The repertoire of identity practices of the Kazimier bohemians developed in this way is nowadays rejected by the “new generation”, which builds its identity on different performance experiences.

From the statements of the interviewees, it is clear that in order to achieve social recognition that cultivates identity , the practice must be performed smoothly. Only smooth performances are considered authentic, and authenticity is a condition for social recognition and legitimisation of individual identity. Respondents denied authenticity to performances that were not smooth. Smooth performances ensure that freedom of movement in a scene is achieved—respondents then feel “in place” and in the same way they also perceive others in the scene who show freedom to perform the practices assigned to the scene, behaving “appropriately” to the legibility structures in place. They feel, in turn, ‘uncomfortable’ and out of place when their performances are flawed. The fluidity of performance allows respondents to distinguish between those who belong to a particular scene through their preferred configuration of practices and those who do not. They tend to refer to the latter as “accidental people”. “Accidental people” are those whose performances are not authentic or deviate from accepted practices. This may be determined by the way one drinks beer or the purpose for which one drinks it, which respondents attribute to the “accidental” person on the basis of their bodily doings and sayings. Sometimes other “accidental” practitioners do not share the intelligibility structures of the scene and thus do not realise their incompetence, irritating those who consider themselves “their own”.

The basis of successful identity performance is the adequate embodiment of a given practice, which is equivalent to achieving proficiency in the practice. The analysed interviews leave no doubt about the importance of the embodied nature of identity practices as well as other community practices and their elements. As the analysed material shows, as long as a practice is not well embodied, it is in the perception of practitioners something external, even seductive, and does not allow practitioners to enjoy authenticity. Therefore, the theme of learning the practices, achieving authenticity by training the body-mind in performance and becoming proficient in practice, resonates in the respondents’ statements. One respondent recounted her faux pas, which betrayed her as an unfamiliar newcomer when she ordered a coffee in the café of the New Theatre. She asked for her coffee to be served with plant milk, to which the serving barista announced in an admonishing voice that the café only served plant-based milk and asked her to choose which plant-based milk she liked best. The respondent recalls that she then felt “exposed and excluded”, as if she was “pretending to be someone she wasn’t yet”, her competence proficiency was insufficient, and her sense of authenticity was questioned. She was “new and unfamiliar”. She revealed herself not to be a regular; moreover, she could appear pretentious and “ridiculous” with her request, for “here the standard is that you don’t eat animal products and real vegans know it”. Proficiency in ordering coffee in the café of the New Theatre thus turns out to be an element of being a “real vegan” but also, as the respondent recounted, of “being Mokotovian”, i.e. fluent in the Mokotow scene and familiar with its repertoire of practices that make an individual a member of the Mokotow community. Losing her sense of confidence in the situation described, the respondent experienced a lack of satisfaction with her practice, which in turn became a source of a sense of threat to her identity as she was not adequately—in the way she expected—recognised by others.

In the scenes studied, respondents tended to indulge in the most embodied practices, which lose their external character through shared embodiment and intelligibility . Respondents pointed to the “naturalness” and “sense of freedom” resulting from the “right to be oneself” that participation in the scene gives them. Therefore, the principles that organise practices are not always available to respondents, in many interviews’ respondents found it difficult to articulate them. It was much easier for them to identify what could not be done in a scene, or how it could not or should not be done, what does not fit into the scene, demolishes its character and the “sense of freedom and right to be oneself” it generates, what runs outside its practice-arrangement bundles and is a manifestation of already other practices for which the appropriate site is elsewhere. Similar difficulties were often manifested by respondents in justifying the identity practices they undertake. This demonstrates that identity practices are not projects that individuals carry out thoughtfully and consciously, making rational decisions—they are automatic, embodied and involve joining in the practice with the meanings, values and emotions ascribed to them. Individuals allow themselves to be “carried along” by the practice, taking things as they are, finding it difficult to rationalise and explain them—they appear to respondents as “only possible” and “obvious”. This is not to say that respondents were unable to access the configuring elements of practice when properly stimulated to be reflexive. However, they most often referred to the aesthetic-ethical categories legitimising the practice, which induce its distinctive nature manifested in affects such as a sense of pleasure and satisfaction in undertaking the practice, or disgust at practices perceived as inferior. It was much easier for respondents to talk about others, in which case the identity (as well as community) projects behind the practices undertaken together became more apparent.

As the research shows, gaining proficiency in the practice of identity and community based on it is linked to learning new practices and expanding one's own repertoire. The socio-cultural opportunity structures available in scenes tend to create opportunities to undertake more practices than just the practice or practices that originally attracted the individual to the scene. Moreover, socio-cultural opportunity structures are dynamic: practitioners ‘bring’ practices with them, co-constructing the intelligibility of scene and its opportunity structure. Thus, scenes always offer opportunities to recruit to new practices. In scenes that offer a wider range of practices, practitioners are much more likely to develop their repertoires of practices. The cases of Jazdów or Mokotów, where the greatest diversity of practices has been observed, are here the best examples of such an expansion of the repertoires of practices that make up the lifestyle and identity of a place. A participant in the Jazdów scene goes there to work in the community garden and, on the spot, engages in a multiplicity of other practices, as a result of which he becomes a community worker and activist: from other participants in the scene he learns how to be more ecological and anti-systemic, he joins in the celebration of community. A respondent from Mokotow, while shopping in a food shop from a local farmer, observes other customers who come with their own packaging to reduce their plastic consumption—she is ashamed that her organic food is packed in plastic bags, so she expands her repertoire of ecological practices to include the use of reusable packaging. Individuals begin to build their identities as trajectories and careers of practices often with a single practice: they come to a scene as a site for this practice and observe on site the availability of other practices connected teleoaffectively. Thus, they subsume new practices aimed at similar goals and affects and in this way not only reinforce or expand their meaning and identity , but also increase opportunities to overlap with other agents and enter into contact with them, as well as build collective identity as a shared repertoire of practices and their arrangements. The nexus of practices develops by incorporating new practices thus developing the community.

Respondents show an awareness of the dependence of lifestyle-based identities on the availability of practices. An interesting practice observed is the practice of “sustaining” practices as activities aimed at preserving or strengthening the socio-cultural opportunity structure . This type of practice is particularly present in the emerging scenes of Katowice as well as the scenes of Krakow, which is defending itself against tourism and the anonymisation and disintegration of the socio-cultural opportunity structures. Socio-cultural opportunity structures in these cities, as already mentioned, are relatively weaker than in Warsaw—in Katowice we still observe a relative scarcity of opportunities for specific practices, while in Krakow opportunity structures seem to be shrinking and homogenising under the influence of tourism. It should not come as a surprise, then, that respondents from Krakow and Katowice unusually often indicated in their interviews that they were in solidarity with places that ensure the availability of the desired practices. The majority of participants in the bohemian scene of Kazimierz regularly visit friend venues, use local outlets and shops to “save the remains of the old Kazimierz”. They popularise these venues among their friends in order to ensure that there is sufficient critical mass to sustain the venue and thus the practices undertaken there. Similarly, in Katowice, many respondents stressed that they try to participate in various events organised in well-liked venues in order to sustain and support the kind of initiatives that give Katowice its expected urban character. Similar practices are not lacking in Warsaw either. One interviewee from Old Mokotow told us that she buys much more expensive light bulbs from a local bulb and lamp shop just to keep the shop afloat and to be able to buy such a bulb in the future if she suddenly needs one. She also points to the need to support local outlets in order to maintain the character of the place and the opportunities it offers for the lifestyle she practices: “When you can't get everything done here locally, it won't be the same anymore, I don't want to move from here”. Thus, it can be said that the participants in the studied scenes form a kind of “front” in the struggle to maintain and develop the desired socio-cultural opportunity structures on which their chances to perform identity practices, tasks and projects depend. Actors perform a given practice in order to be able to practice it in the future as well. It thus appears that practitioners have a kind of awareness of the performativity of the social world and understand that without a given practice being practised by a sufficient number of committed practitioners, the practice dies out. Undertaking a practice in order to sustain it demonstrates the agency of practitioners in creating the social world and its community dimension.

It is difficult to enact a community of lifestyles alone, without the presence of other people. Identity practices are inevitably linked to practices of sociability , hence it is not surprising that practices of sociability also appear just as frequently in the material collected. This inevitability of connections is primarily due to the need for recognition by others as a condition for an effectively enactment of individual identity . Since recognition by others and learning from others (proficient in the identity practices in question) are a condition for an effectively performed identity , the presence of other people and being in their company becomes inevitable. Moreover, sociability is often instrumental and appears as part of identity construction—being sociable and meeting up is part of practising a particular lifestyle. This theme was mainly observed in the case of bohemia. The statement that “artists need to get together” was a frequent theme in respondents’ statements. It was unequivocally pointed out that meeting others is part of the artistic lifestyle, hence practising sociability is something commonly expected of an artist. The presence of other people in the scene also has an important function for identity practices as part of practice-arrangement bundles. Respondents pointed in the interviews to the characteristics of the individuals in the scene as equally important elements besides aesthetics in the configuration of practices that give meanings to the scene defining structures of intelligibility . Depending on the company in which practitioners are drinking beer, the practice takes on different meanings, hence respondents are careful to select the places they go for beer, also taking into account their clientele. “Other people” in the scene, however, need not always include only individuals who are similar in terms of repertoires and trajectories of practices. Sometimes, the presence of people with different repertoires and trajectories, and thus different identities , proved to be essential for respondents to legitimise the identity practices they undertake and determine their authenticity. A particularly telling example of this is the square of the New Theatre in Old Mokotow, where, as in the case of Neukoln in Berlin, described by me elsewhere (Klekotko, 2019b), the authenticity of respondents’ identity practices is based on the co-presence of negatively privileged individuals. Their presence in the scene is a necessary condition for the authenticity of the practices that make up a tolerant, egalitarian and inclusive lifestyle. However, although allowed or even invited into the shared space of practices, the negatively privileged remain excluded from the lifestyle community acting merely as objectified props necessary for the realisation of identity practices.

However, the material collected allows to conclude that sociability as an urban practice of community is not solely derived from identity practices (although it is linked to them), but shows a relative degree of autonomy and autotelicity. It appears that residents of large cities need real contact with others and engage in and develop practices designed to establish or sustain such contact. This need for contact shows up in the collected material in two dimensions. On the one hand, the theme of loneliness in the city and the search for companionship becomes apparent. Respondents visit certain scenes in the hope of meeting someone familiar or getting to know someone new. This type of motivation was particularly observed in the case of Zbawiciela Square and in the case of Kazimierz. The scene functions as a meeting place, a point on the city map where current or potential acquaintances gather—people with whom we share similarities of lifestyle. The second dimension in which the observed practices of sociability manifest themselves is the tribal aspiration to be among one's own (as understood by Maffesoli , [1996] cf. Chapter 1), which makes it possible to fulfil the need to experience liminality in its pure form (which was particularly clearly observed in the case of Old Mokotow). In the interviews, respondents expressed the need to be among other people—not, however, completely random people, but people with whom they share similarities of practices and in whose company they feel safe. Here, the scene is a safe site of intelligibility that defines the framework for interaction between strangers indulging in similar practices—a recognisable terrain of neo-tribalism.

Whether driven by autotelic or instrumental motives, being among other people who share common practices inevitably leads to an experience of liminality that becomes a source of pleasure and satisfaction. The vast majority of interviewees emphasised the pleasure they derive from perusing practices together. In the scenes studied, interviewees experience liminal emotional-spiritual states, which they described as “that nice feeling” when “it makes a person feel better”, “it’s nice”, “it’s blissful”. Such a “nice feeling” may be generated even by such inconspicuous situations as the one described by an interviewee from Old Mokotow, who talked about how cyclists passing each other in the neighbourhood smile at each other, expressing in this way their sympathy for common lifestyle choices (“I ride my bike and she rides her bike and it is nice, there are more of us”). Being among “one’s own”, i.e., similar individuals provides, moreover, a sense of ontological security, which fosters social relationships. In almost all of the interviews, respondents pointed to this sense of security provided by scenes—they felt “at ease”, “at home”, “among their own”, “naturally”, “safe”, “familiar”, etc. in them. This sense of safety and familiarity disappears when “random people” appear in the scene, whose performances betray the foreignness of the ineligibility structures. One interviewee spoke passionately about “losing oneself in dance” at electronic music concerts and the particular spiritual community that this losing oneself together with others generates. She also emphasised that such losing oneself is only possible where “there are no random people” who “shatter the atmosphere of the place”, thus justifying her particular predilection for the scene under study as safe and enabling one to lose oneself and thus achieve spiritual community. The interviews also pointed to the ease of connecting with other regulars resulting from the safe context of the scene: “you know that no one will talk back badly to you here”, “you can afford to be more confidential”, “no one will be surprised if you talk to someone”, “people here are nice to each other”, “no one will surprise you negatively here, you know what to expect”. There was also an anti-structural theme in some of the statements, as Turner (1969) himself understood the anti-structural moment of liminality (cf. Chapter 1)—interviewees indicated that the scenes explored were “the opposite of the normal”, “a suspension of the everyday”, “a negation of normal relationships”. Some interviewees pointed to a kind of sense of “freedom”, understood as a release from statuses and pressures, which fosters a greater openness of people to each other and facilitates contacts that would not otherwise be possible. Practitioners thus come to the studied scenes not only to practice identity , but also to experience “comunitas”. Once experienced, liminality expands the teleoaffective structures of the practices with new motivations and affects, developing practices of sociability . Based on experiencing comunitas, the practice of sociability becomes an independent and autotelic communal practice.

As indicated in Chapter 2, the experience of liminality leads to an awareness of the commons and thus the birth of a collective self-consciousness that allows the development of practices of collaboration and collective action . How then, in the light of the material collected, does this process manifest itself in the practices undertaken? It turns out that although respondents are perfectly capable of recognising (and naming) the community to which they belong (especially by identifying the teleoaffective similarities that link them to other practitioners), they do not always identify with it explicitly—they sometimes avoid speaking of their practices in collective terms. Nevertheless, practising together in the intelligible space of scene allows respondents to recognise other practitioners as sharing similar meanings (including tastes and values) and competences (embodied skills and practical understandings) distinctive from practitioners of different scenes (“We drink beer and they drink beer, but it's not the same thing after all”). In almost all interviews, respondents indicated that scene participants shared a number of similarities (which at the same time distinguished them from participants of other scenes), whereby in defining similarity they referred to a commonality of practices as distinctive ways of practising rather than character traits, thus recognising each other’s meanings and identities . Sharing common repertoires and trajectories of identity practices naturally brings people together, even when they do not know each other and do not interact with each other directly. Respondents recognise that they feel comfortable around others in the scene and display trust and openness towards them as “people from the same fairy tale”. This is because they recognise shared competences, meanings and teleoafectives in shared practices and can anticipate their ways of acting and feeling with other scene participants (“I know what to expect”). In other words, they share an intelligibility that ensures smooth hanging together.

The mutual recognition of individual identities realised through the practices embedded in the scene and the resulting liminal experiences are, in turn, a condition for the other types of community practices, which are arranged in a kind of successive stages of community development. It is the mutual recognition of the similarity of repertoires and trajectories of practices that first connects individuals and underpins the development of community practices. However, recognition and the spiritual pleasure of shared practice do not automatically lead to collaboration or collective action . The repetition of practices is important, as is their variety and overlapping. Respondents pointed to the importance of time spent in shared practices and their repetition and regularity. Frequent or regular repetition of the same practices of identity and sociability with the same people makes the community more intimate, as it is no longer based on the mere similarity of the practices undertaken, but also on the shared experience of the performances , which allows a specific configuration of elements of community practice to be worked out together and builds a greater commitment to sustaining the community as such, develops a sense of we-ness and a sense of attachment to the scene as “ours”. The development of community-oriented practices is also fostered by the overlap of various identity and community practices in the scene. Where respondents had the opportunity to engage in a greater number of meaningfully coherent practices (Jazdów and Old Mokotów), a greater ease of developing collective self-awareness, agency and collective action was observed. The greater the intensity and saturation of overlapping practices, the stronger the sense of we-ness and the readiness for collaboration and community action. The joint involvement in more practices increases the similarity of careers or trajectories of practices and thus results in a greater coherence of identities of individuals and their mutual recognition , which translates into collective self-awareness. In other words, the more different practices practitioners can engage in, the more commonalities they recognise that bind them together in more ways. These multiple ties favour development of stronger sense of community and lead to collective agency. Recognition and liminality thus lead to an awareness of community and are primary to collective action . However, once community becomes realised, materialised and enacted in collective action, the result is again a strong experience of liminality that is a source of strength and a more lasting community—a greater frequency and permanence of community-oriented practices (practices of cooperation and collective action). The community of Old Mokotow or Jazdow believes that everything can be done. It has a strong sense of agency. It sees the community no longer just as a community of values and lifestyles, repertoires and trajectories of practices, but as a collective body capable of action. The experience of liminality is thus an extremely important element in the development of community practices in the city.

The research confirms that the aesthetic dimensions of scene as elements of its socio-cultural opportunity structure play an important role in determining the nature of community practices in terms of both content and form. The dimension of transgression seems to play a particular role in mobilisation. Jazdów, Plan B in Zbawiciela Square, Kato or even Old Mokotów (although to a much lesser extent, as in this case the other features of the socio-cultural opportunity structure outlined earlier were decisive for mobilisation) mobilised mainly around the theme of transgression. This finds its theoretical justification in, among others, Melucci's (1989, 1996) concept of social movements. Transgression naturally denotes cultural resistance and positions transgressive practitioners in opposition to the dominant groups that define mainstream values. The basis of transgression is a disagreement with the status quo and a desire to change it. Mobilisation in the cases indicated here concerned both the territorial interests of a scene perceived as ‘ours’ (defence of the interests of a housing estate in Jazdów, the fight to preserve trees in Old Mokotow, the rise of the urban movement in Katowice) and more universal values and goals (ecology, democracy, helping and supporting minorities, fighting the system). The values of neighbourliness, on the other hand, seem particularly conducive to the celebration of sociability , and a local community (a new locality) is built around the combination of neighbourliness and locality, as observed in the case of Mokotow (similar observations, although on a significantly smaller scale, have been collected in the case of Nowa Huta in Cracow and Koszutka in Katowice, which, due to lack of room, have not been presented in this book). The local community grows not from the functional dependencies of inhabiting a shared space, but from a community of identity projects built from identity tasks and practices oriented towards, among other things, locality and neighbourliness. The new locality is built on a community-constructed local identity that is defined by a defined repertoire of practices. This identity does not grow out of tradition or attachment to a particular place, but is constructed around shared values, tastes, cultural practices and specific consumption patterns. The sense of belonging and place-attachment is, above all, a consequence of the shared enjoyment of a chosen lifestyle which is a frame for local identity of the place.

Field observations also confirm the assumption that differences in the “scenisation” of cities translate into different socio-cultural opportunity structures and thus different community dynamics. It turns out that the undefined emerging structures “under construction” in Katowice allowed for the activation of community processes of space production—the identity of individuals is built together with the identity of the scenes and the city itself. In Krakow, although there is no shortage of opportunities for cultural consumption, they often show low intelligibility caused by massive tourism and touristification of scenes. Their blurred structures “in defence” provide thus limited resources for integration. The regulars of scenes are “lost” in the crowd of tourists, which makes their mutual recognition and social contact much more difficult. The hindered contact, in turn, limits the possibility of developing the collective consciousness, therefore the community practices in Krakow’s scenes seem to be dominated by identity practices. On the other hand, developed and highly intelligible structures in Warsaw are conducive to quite diverse communities, which achieve a high level of integration and organisation.

Overall, practices enacted in scenes allow the building and sustaining of both new-local neighbourhood communities (Mokotów), as well as networks (Kazimierz) and cultural communities (Mokotów, Jazdów, Plac Zbawiciela, Kato). The development of these communities is based on distinctive identity practices. In this context, many views on the community building in the city, some of which were presented in Chapter 1, need to be revised. The idea of Oldenburg’s (1989) third place where “everyone is welcome” may not prove to be very effective, as individuals find it easier to establish community when they share similarities that at the same time allow them to distinguish themselves from others. As could be seen in the empirical material presented, where intelligibility is low and “random people” appear it is more difficult to bond, as there is a lack of mutual recognition and a coherent framework of interaction. Full inclusion is therefore not possible, it is difficult to build a scene that connects everyone. This is why it is necessary to build diverse scenes for different groups and ensure their smooth intermingling—then many groupings can integrate within their horizons of intelligibility in the context of tolerant coexistence. It is therefore necessary to look at the public spaces of cities through the lens of practices and mechanisms of liminality that they trigger. In the conclusion of this little book that follows this chapter I provide some general and universal tips on how to build communities using the scenes approach.