Traffic Mum – Part 2
Saliou Traore’s flyer for his project entitled “Traffic Mum” immediately struck a chord with me. The very nature of the image it casts of two parents with a pushchair parting ways, overshadowed by a giantly proportioned crowd of baby-free pedestrians towering behind them was like viewing an animation of my mind. It represented an essential element of my experience on this planet we call parenthood and the sentiments that have developed since my arrival 14 months ago. ( MAYBE BETTER TO WRITE THAT YOU CAME TO LIVE IN AMSTERDAM COMING FROM UK AND YOU’RE YOUR EXPERIENCE BEING MOTHER AND BEING IN A NEW COUNTRY GO HAND IN HAND) Whilst I have endeavoured to merge with the crowds and roam smoothly with my pushchair, incidents relating to personal space have become very much a part of daily life for me, and I wanted to delve into Saliou Traore’s world as an artist, and find out why he too is fascinated by the subtle layers of human behaviour that unfold and show themselves when this form of transport is used on the streets about town.
With his project “Traffic Mum” Saliou Traore seeks to initiate choreography within a public space. He is interested in the ways that people approach obstacles in their path and attempts to explore the concept of tolerance, designed behaviour and normal everyday life. His interest in spatial organisation of people derives from his interest in culture and the differences in his experiences of two very different cultures – his homeland of Burkina Faso in Africa, and the other in the Netherlands. He is interested in the ways men deal with an obstacle – that either they wait passively, or creatively manoeuvre around it. In his homeland of Burkina Fosa people deal with blockages in an angry way, shouting and beeping their horns. Here in The Netherlands I have observed that people are not so quick to show such intolerance, since tolerance is something they (BETTER IS SOMETHING DUTCH PEOPLE APARENTELY ) pride themselves on. Perhaps this is why they are so ready and able to be extremely direct in conversation, sometimes remarks can seem to have a jagged edge. I wonder if this the result of suppressed expression towards everyday experience?
The morning of April 22nd was a perfect setting for strolling around the eclectic streets of De Pijp in Amsterdam with a group of like minded individuals, united for a common purpose. The sky was clear blue and smiles radiated warmly from everyone that attended the event. It was clear that parents felt it was an important day, and when I spoke to those gathered there on the Heineken Plein, they resounded my thoughts about pushchairs being a form of transport in their own right. One mother remarked that we as parents should be proud of our vehicles and felt that this was the perfect setting for pushchairs to be seen as significant. Another was interested in the challenge of merging with the public as a group of parents because we are usually confined to playgroups, and she said that at times this felt like some secret and elite existence. As 10.30 drew closer, it became apparent that we had reached maximum attendance – at 6 parents. No one was quite sure why the size of the group was not larger. Being a weekday we had expected it would fit very well with the schedule of many non-working parents. But we were in good spirits, and with fierce joy we set off for an adventure through the pijp! We were asked to ignore the cameras and to walk as we normally would. But this in itself proved to be a challenge, as the natural inclination is to look into a camera when you find yourself walking towards its lens. Saliou also wanted us to switch places sometimes so that there was some variation of imagery. This was easily forgotten, as a tendency of parents is to get lost in conversation about sleep and nappies! Even so, I still felt rather self-conscious, and realised that the social dynamics and interplay of space certainly felt less natural, with it being a filmed project.
One of the parents parted from the group less than half way through, so then we were 5. Apart from a few curious glances from people in cars at traffic lights, and some fellow pedestrians, there was little impact on our environment, due to the fact that our group size was minimal, and that the streets were quiet. We did not appear out of the ordinary in any way, except for the cameras that followed us around.
Along our route we did encounter an area of pavement that was being rebuilt, and we needed to manoeuvre around it as a group. This did reveal the importance of stopping distances, and the need to estimate other person’s movements ahead. Some of us did begin to bump into each other and the size of our pushchairs became an issue of importance. If any of us had been in a rush, then there would have been potential for an awkward scenario. But we shared a common goal, and so I think we had a higher level of patience than under normal circumstances.
Reflecting back on the day, I think it was a stepping stone for some future experimentation. It is estimated that personal physical space requirements are about 60 centimetres on either side, 70 centimetres in front and 40 centimetres behind for an average westerner. I think it would be a most revealing project if these distances were seriously challenged whilst keeping the cameras further away from the group so that their connection was not so apparent. I hope that Part 3 of ‘Traffic Mum” will involve a larger group within a more built up and confined area.

Space and time – both are luxuries that few of us can actually afford in desired quantities. And very often when we are rewarded with them in unexpected doses we don’t know what to do with them! Such is the paradox of these increasingly chaotic and crowded times we live in. And this is no more felt than inside a city.
Amsterdam is one of the most densely populated cities in Europe, in this small city there is a large proportion of people to space. Much in the way of transport needs to fit together like a jigsaw. People seem a little possessive about space. On the other hand, I have grown up in my native London, where I feel that the issue is more with time. Due to the large size of the city, transporting around is a lengthy process, and there is more of a sense that people are in a rush, no time to stop, want to be served instantly, and are always looking at watches.
I believe that each of us has the desire to feel as unhindered and undisturbed as humanely possible as we journey through our day performing all mundane pursuits, be it crossing the road, entering a store through a doorway, or stepping onto a bus or a tram. Speaking from my own perspective, since becoming a mother my habitat has changed. I have also grown in size with the addition of my pushchair, which has meant I have needed to adjust my awareness of spatial capacity. And I have felt the impact that this extension of my physical being has on those around me. But also I have encountered so many restrictions on my daily path, which, prior to motherhood were not there. It is interesting that allowances are in place for bicycles, buses, taxis, trams, and sometimes although all too sparingly for wheelchair users, and yet the pushchair, which has become an increasingly large and sophisticated method of transport for our children, is not being recognized as such, because it is certainly not being integrated into society in any thoughtful way.
I feel I respect personal space. I don’t like to have the feeling I am obstructing, and neither do I like it if people languish lazily and carelessly in a pathway that is meant for transportation purposes, be it for pedestrians, cars or bikes. We all have a space to share, and we need to be considerate towards others to make it work. But it is a delicate operation. There are subtle things to anticipate and deal with along the way; our motor skills are on demand and our senses on high alert. Yet we have no training or education. It rests with our morals, sense of right and wrong, what is polite, what is fair, with our ability for forward thinking, our ability to estimate space, our communication skills, our sense of confidence, and our social skills. It goes on. So many things about human nature can exposed within these everyday situations. We are often forced to confront one another, when we would perhaps prefer to be getting on with business, journeying from a to b in peace.

Traffic Mum – Part 2
Saliou Traore’s flyer for his project entitled “Traffic Mum” immediately struck a chord with me. The very nature of the image it casts of two parents with a pushchair parting ways, overshadowed by a giantly proportioned crowd of baby-free pedestrians towering behind them was like viewing an animation of my mind. It represented an essential element of my experience on this planet we call parenthood and the sentiments that have developed since my arrival 14 months ago. ( MAYBE BETTER TO WRITE THAT YOU CAME TO LIVE IN AMSTERDAM COMING FROM UK AND YOU’RE YOUR EXPERIENCE BEING MOTHER AND BEING IN A NEW COUNTRY GO HAND IN HAND) Whilst I have endeavoured to merge with the crowds and roam smoothly with my pushchair, incidents relating to personal space have become very much a part of daily life for me, and I wanted to delve into Saliou Traore’s world as an artist, and find out why he too is fascinated by the subtle layers of human behaviour that unfold and show themselves when this form of transport is used on the streets about town.
With his project “Traffic Mum” Saliou Traore seeks to initiate choreography within a public space. He is interested in the ways that people approach obstacles in their path and attempts to explore the concept of tolerance, designed behaviour and normal everyday life. His interest in spatial organisation of people derives from his interest in culture and the differences in his experiences of two very different cultures – his homeland of Burkina Faso in Africa, and the other in the Netherlands. He is interested in the ways men deal with an obstacle – that either they wait passively, or creatively manoeuvre around it. In his homeland of Burkina Fosa people deal with blockages in an angry way, shouting and beeping their horns. Here in The Netherlands I have observed that people are not so quick to show such intolerance, since tolerance is something they (BETTER IS SOMETHING DUTCH PEOPLE APARENTELY ) pride themselves on. Perhaps this is why they are so ready and able to be extremely direct in conversation, sometimes remarks can seem to have a jagged edge. I wonder if this the result of suppressed expression towards everyday experience?
The morning of April 22nd was a perfect setting for strolling around the eclectic streets of De Pijp in Amsterdam with a group of like minded individuals, united for a common purpose. The sky was clear blue and smiles radiated warmly from everyone that attended the event. It was clear that parents felt it was an important day, and when I spoke to those gathered there on the Heineken Plein, they resounded my thoughts about pushchairs being a form of transport in their own right. One mother remarked that we as parents should be proud of our vehicles and felt that this was the perfect setting for pushchairs to be seen as significant. Another was interested in the challenge of merging with the public as a group of parents because we are usually confined to playgroups, and she said that at times this felt like some secret and elite existence. As 10.30 drew closer, it became apparent that we had reached maximum attendance – at 6 parents. No one was quite sure why the size of the group was not larger. Being a weekday we had expected it would fit very well with the schedule of many non-working parents. But we were in good spirits, and with fierce joy we set off for an adventure through the pijp! We were asked to ignore the cameras and to walk as we normally would. But this in itself proved to be a challenge, as the natural inclination is to look into a camera when you find yourself walking towards its lens. Saliou also wanted us to switch places sometimes so that there was some variation of imagery. This was easily forgotten, as a tendency of parents is to get lost in conversation about sleep and nappies! Even so, I still felt rather self-conscious, and realised that the social dynamics and interplay of space certainly felt less natural, with it being a filmed project.
One of the parents parted from the group less than half way through, so then we were 5. Apart from a few curious glances from people in cars at traffic lights, and some fellow pedestrians, there was little impact on our environment, due to the fact that our group size was minimal, and that the streets were quiet. We did not appear out of the ordinary in any way, except for the cameras that followed us around.
Along our route we did encounter an area of pavement that was being rebuilt, and we needed to manoeuvre around it as a group. This did reveal the importance of stopping distances, and the need to estimate other person’s movements ahead. Some of us did begin to bump into each other and the size of our pushchairs became an issue of importance. If any of us had been in a rush, then there would have been potential for an awkward scenario. But we shared a common goal, and so I think we had a higher level of patience than under normal circumstances.
Reflecting back on the day, I think it was a stepping stone for some future experimentation. It is estimated that personal physical space requirements are about 60 centimetres on either side, 70 centimetres in front and 40 centimetres behind for an average westerner. I think it would be a most revealing project if these distances were seriously challenged whilst keeping the cameras further away from the group so that their connection was not so apparent. I hope that Part 3 of ‘Traffic Mum” will involve a larger group within a more built up and confined area.

Space and time – both are luxuries that few of us can actually afford in desired quantities. And very often when we are rewarded with them in unexpected doses we don’t know what to do with them! Such is the paradox of these increasingly chaotic and crowded times we live in. And this is no more felt than inside a city.
Amsterdam is one of the most densely populated cities in Europe, in this small city there is a large proportion of people to space. Much in the way of transport needs to fit together like a jigsaw. People seem a little possessive about space. On the other hand, I have grown up in my native London, where I feel that the issue is more with time. Due to the large size of the city, transporting around is a lengthy process, and there is more of a sense that people are in a rush, no time to stop, want to be served instantly, and are always looking at watches.
I believe that each of us has the desire to feel as unhindered and undisturbed as humanely possible as we journey through our day performing all mundane pursuits, be it crossing the road, entering a store through a doorway, or stepping onto a bus or a tram. Speaking from my own perspective, since becoming a mother my habitat has changed. I have also grown in size with the addition of my pushchair, which has meant I have needed to adjust my awareness of spatial capacity. And I have felt the impact that this extension of my physical being has on those around me. But also I have encountered so many restrictions on my daily path, which, prior to motherhood were not there. It is interesting that allowances are in place for bicycles, buses, taxis, trams, and sometimes although all too sparingly for wheelchair users, and yet the pushchair, which has become an increasingly large and sophisticated method of transport for our children, is not being recognized as such, because it is certainly not being integrated into society in any thoughtful way.
I feel I respect personal space. I don’t like to have the feeling I am obstructing, and neither do I like it if people languish lazily and carelessly in a pathway that is meant for transportation purposes, be it for pedestrians, cars or bikes. We all have a space to share, and we need to be considerate towards others to make it work. But it is a delicate operation. There are subtle things to anticipate and deal with along the way; our motor skills are on demand and our senses on high alert. Yet we have no training or education. It rests with our morals, sense of right and wrong, what is polite, what is fair, with our ability for forward thinking, our ability to estimate space, our communication skills, our sense of confidence, and our social skills. It goes on. So many things about human nature can exposed within these everyday situations. We are often forced to confront one another, when we would perhaps prefer to be getting on with business, journeying from a to b in peace.