In Lignon, in the breaths of the city

It was almost ten and a half hours, and while I walked from my apartment to Place du Lignon, the wind rushed into the passages, brushed as a awakened memory. For example, Here in this district, the wind becomes a character. In addition, It changes its face according to the seasons: icy kiss in winter. However, vivid current in the fall, soft breeze in spring. However, It is the breath of Lignon, raw and tender, which raises memories, voice and fragments of lives. For example, On May 17. Meanwhile, I came to listen to the murmur, during an urban walk to which I had the pleasure of contributing as a resident of the neighborhood. Furthermore, An exploration attentive to the place. Therefore, inscribed as part of explore tomorrow, a citizen festival organized by the cantonal department of the territory (DT) since 2019, which invites lignon, breaths city you to dream, exchange and imagine together a common future.

In this spirit, a sentence came back to me over the course of walking. However, The poet Paul Valéry wrote in The marine cemetery: “The wind rises … Moreover, you have to try to live.” A simple, but dense verse of possibilities. For example, It can be interpreted as an invitation not to give in when the benchmarks vacillate. Consequently, to look for a meaning even when everything seems uncertain. Moreover, Thinking of the Lignon, these words take a particular resonance. Consequently, Like many large sets, he has known his storms, moments when the wind rises. For example, But here. For example, the inhabitants also knew how to try to live, to breathe out on a daily basis, to recreate a link despite the fractures.

This relationship between fragility. In addition, vitality was precisely at the heart of the ride: lignon, breaths city retrace the trajectories of those who crossed this place, explore the experiences, the attachments, but also the ambivalences. Furthermore, Because Lignon is not only an emblematic architecture. Moreover, It is a lived, inhabited space, interpreted on a daily basis. Furthermore, A place where memories of arrivals, gestures of appropriation, tensions and silent solidarity are mixed. Moreover, To walk here is to pay attention to these often invisible stories. Similarly, to the way in which bodies invest the corners of everyday life, whose uses transform the initial intentions of the building, whose walls themselves keep track of the passages. Nevertheless, Living in the place: between memories, ruptures and faces familiar with everyday life.

The silence of Saturday morning is interrupted only by our steps. Meanwhile, some bikes, and the preparations for an event being installed. Furthermore, At first glance, the place seems calm, almost frozen. However, But you just have to lignon, breaths city look up towards a facade. Moreover, or stop in front of a photo of archives shared on the Facebook group of the district “You are from Lignon if …” so that the past resurfaces. Moreover, Formerly, every Thursday morning, the place came up in. Therefore, White tents, fruit cagettes, the call of the fishmonger Mr. For example, Rivolta. Therefore, the cheeseman who offered a piece of Gruyère to children, and the bibliobus that was expected as a party. However, Around the market, the neighborhood took shape and face. In addition, In the memories exchanged online, some wrote: “It was nicer, a real market with our neighbors.” There were faces, voices, simple but essential gestures. Consequently, This market structured a local life, a way of being together, even without always knowing yourself. For example, By walking in this same place, we perceive, behind the silent cobblestones, the echo of these Thursdays lignon, breaths city morning.

But the memory of the Lignon is not limited to the warm everyday scenes. However, By advancing towards the heart of the neighborhood, another story outcrops, more brutal, still lively in memories. Consequently, It was that of the church fire, which occurred ten years ago. That morning, flames had awakened several inhabitants. The emotion had been immediate. This place, an emotional and spiritual landmark, had welcomed communions, marriages, farewells. It was part of the landscape, almost like a symbolic center. Very quickly, a question arose in the exchanges of the Online district: were we going lignon, breaths city to rebuild it? And how? Some wanted an identical reconstruction, others offered an organ, even solar panels. But basically, it was not only an architecture matter. This debate raised the question of the meaning that we give to the place. of what we want to transmit, make last or transform.

And then. at the bend of a street, another memory reappears thanks to the walk: that of a face that has become familiar for many. Coin-Coin was one of those discreet figures but deeply rooted in the collective memory. He did not live in Lignon. but he crossed him almost every day, with his bag, sometimes a green hat, greeting with a gesture or a small “corner-corner”. He didn’t talk much, but he was there. Here. For some children, he represented a form of landmark. For others, he was part of the decor – like a bench, a tree, something lignon, breaths city reassuring. When he had disappeared, the question had circulated: but where had Coin-Coin gone? Two articles in the local press had ended up giving news: it had been found in a retirement home. a little tired, but always faithful to its image. And in the comments of the Facebook group, a sentence often returned: “Coin-cin was part of the neighborhood.” His simple way of being there. without officially living there, embodied a form of attachment instead – without address, but with consistency.

Through these stories – from the disappeared market at the burned church. shared memories with familiar presences – the promenade tells something other than the story of a neighborhood. It shows multiple and often invisible ways to live in a place. It is not only a question of housing or infrastructure. Additionally, It is a question of links, gestures, collective memory. A district also lives thanks to those lignon, breaths city who cross it, who listen to it, or simply leave a trace.

Lignon. breaths city

Each place its stories

After crossing the passage between the village hall and the crèche, I suggest that the group continue a few steps further. A soccer field appears on our right, then, almost at the bend, a blue and gray building. No sign, no sign – a discreet place, which few participants recognize at first glance. I offer a break, and I start to tell. This building is the carambole. When I arrived at Lignon. I was often told – sometimes with a little smile, sometimes in a more worried tone – “young people in the neighborhood”. The terms varied, but often the discourse brought a negative connotation. We mentioned tensions, past incidents, a sometimes heavy reputation. These words echoed a collective imagination which goes beyond the Lignon itself. and which touches the large sets lignon, breaths city and the youth of the working-class neighborhoods more broadly.

But precisely, if I stopped in front of the Carambole, it is because this place also tells another story. At the end of the 1990s and 2000s, the district experienced periods of turbulence. However, inhabitants did not remain silent. There have been local mobilizations: the citizen charter. the better living project in Aïre-Le Lignon, educational actions in schools and places of reception. The Carambole is one of them. I then share with the group what the inhabitants entrusted to me: seen from the outside. this space could be perceived as marginal. But inside, it has always been crossed by discrete links, projects, forms of solidarity.

By discussing during my research, I learned that before being called the Carambole, this place bore another name: Disco Bulle. In the 1980s. it was a benchmark for young people in the neighborhood – a place of music, first meetings, joyful memories. On Facebook, a person says: “On Saturday afternoon, we went to the Aïre meeting center. In the basement. there was a small disco, a bubble of course, with a disco part and another where we played the carambole. And the roof was used for the sledge in winter … What memories! ” At this time of the ride, a person in the group smiles. She recognizes the place: she came there when she was a teenager. This spontaneous memory recalls how the walking and the story can revive lignon, breaths city a dormant memory. These are the fragments that I try to bring out during the walk.

Disco Bulle. then the carambolus, is part of what was called first generation neighborhood houses in Geneva, thoughts to encourage collective life in large complexes. Even today, this place continues to welcome young people. And recently. a television report highlighted the initiative of seven young people from Lignon, who decided together to climb the Mont-Blanc. By visiting this place. evoking its history, I wanted to show how much these spaces can be carriers of ambivalences: sometimes stigmatized, often essential, they tell both social tensions and forms of sociability, link and urban appropriation. Getting over the labels allows you to listen to the trajectories and the possibilities that come to life.

Going down to the Rhône, away from concrete, Lignon reveals a less known face. There, between the trees and the songs of birds, a lignon, breaths city space surprises: the Robinson garden. Nestled at the water’s edge, this place seems suspended between town and countryside, rurbain. There are wooden huts, wheelbarrows, tools, and above all a rare freedom. The children in the neighborhood know him well. This garden is their field of experience. But it is as much more than a simple play space. Its story tells another way of making the city: since the 1980s. inhabitants have mobilized to create a place in their image, living, accessible. It is an initiative born “from below”, before participatory policies become trendy. The recent renovation of the garden aroused debates. resistances: was it necessary to preserve its raw spirit or make it more in line with current standards? This place crystallizes a tension because renovating is not only to build; It is also negotiating memories, practices and affects.

Just above, another mark dialogue silently with the garden: the large tower of the Lignon. Visible for miles, it embodies post-war modernity, but also a more difficult memory. For a long time. it was marked by painful episodes – discreet stories, sometimes tus, but present in the local memory. In the 1980s, a red silhouette appeared, painted clandestinely at the top of the tower. Since then. an urban legend has been forged around this presence, like a discreet echo to the trajectories of those who have chosen to leave their last breath here. In 2015, a citizen petition entitled never again was launched by inhabitants, demanding lignon, breaths city securing access. This mobilization made it possible to lift a taboo. while opening an essential debate on the prevention of suicide, in particular among young people. The Stop Suicide association was auditioned on this occasion, stressing how current and sensitive the question remains. By walking between the Robinson garden. the large tower, we measure the ambivalence of this district: places of life, invention, links, but also injuries, hollow stories. The walk then becomes a collective narration space. to bring out buried stories, build bridges between generations and pave the way for other future.

We finish the walk at the lignon, breaths city Lignon farm, around a few local products. A simple break. but full of meaning: here, the flavors prolong the stories, and the territory lets itself taste as much as it is told.