Archive for the 'The Roving Exhibit' Category

10
Aug

How children take to the Roving Exhibit

By Sue Anne 3 Comments
Categories: The Roving Exhibit

◄ Back
Picture 1 of 6

As some of you may know, I gave a showing (video and talk) of The Roving Exhibit at the twocities gallery back in June. Unfortunately, I had recklessly used the photo boards as shelter against heavy rain that evening. Softened from excess moisture, the boards subsequently hardened into a permanent curve. Given its sorry state, I can’t quite decide if I should offer it to some construction worker as a conveyor or to the kids in my neighborhood to go sledding on the grass.

On second thought, I could simply give the board to the gaggle of cheeky children I met on my last “rove” back in May, who showed me the wonders of a simple plank of cardboard.

After a long meandering walk with the photo boards through street markets and along noisy sidewalks, I had slipped into a longtang along Dongchangzhi Lu (东长治路) in Hongkou south of the Bund, drawn by the soundtrack of a busy Saturday afternoon.

Pushing past the ubiquitous public trash bins, I found the place to be almost cavernous. The structures and beams were taller and the alleys more generous in width. Or perhaps it was the presence of children playing in the midst that made the place look much larger than it really was. It was a nostalgic sight, reminiscent of my childhood days when ‘fun’ didn’t involve an electronic gadget. Nimble fingers were for bursting soap bubbles, not slaying virtual aliens.

Like Pipe Piper, the children trailed after me as I leaned the boards against the wall and began unpacking my equipment. The next thing I knew, neighbors, relatives and friends were called upon to have a gander. The attention was fleeting after the customary “What is this all about?”

The children were less interested in the photos or what they represented, which was often the case. But the unwieldy nature of the boards provided plenty of entertainment. Through the boundless imagination of youth, the boards became wings of imaginary airplanes, fighting swords and magical fans that turned into deadly weapons etc. Receptive and energetic, everyone wanted to pose and play with the camera at the same time. We were loud, boisterous and carefree.

Just then, a loud honk pierced through the air. A grumpy man on an electric bike raised his fists, demanding we get out of his way in the alley. As he passed, a young girl reassured me, “Don’t mind him, sister.” she stuck at her tongue at the man’s receding back. “He’s crazy. Nobody likes him.”

23
Jun

The street patrons of the Roving Exhibit

By Sue Anne 11 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications and The Roving Exhibit

First of all, a word of thanks to all the folks who braved the torrential rain last Friday to attend my talk at the beautiful twocities gallery. I myself was caught in the downpour on the way over but the photo boards came in handy for shelter!

Special thanks to Eva, Chelsea and their wonderful staff for hosting me. Eva was a most excellant interviewer and I’m sure many twocities visitors will miss her when she leaves.

For those who could not attend, below is a short slideshow I screened at twocities, a compilation of all the places the Roving Exhibit has been to. (if you can’t see the video below, here is the link.)

The Roving Exhibit started off as a curious experiment - taking street photography back to the streets in the form of show and tell. At the end of the day, the Roving Exhibit could not have been anything without its array of colorful street patrons – local residents, street sweepers, construction workers and street hawkers – that largely made up my audience.

Ahhh, what stories I have (and shared) and the various shapes and sizes they embody. So here I present to you, a snapshot of my average patron:

The art critic: When I first started out, a woman selling socks on the side of the street had bluntly told me to improve my photograhy skills. No, I’m not joking. Like her, I’ve had a few who spent more time telling me how to improve my work than looking at the photos.

Feedback has ranged from the friendly, useful and some bordered on plain old criticism. Some have been very useful, such as adding headings and context to the photos. Others preferred more color than black and white. Some had issues with the composition, framing, depth of field and more. I get it, it’s a rather Chinese way of expressing care which I am familiar, and I’ve taken all of them in stride. Rarely do critics border on being hostile. Disinterest is your greatest fear.

The logistics guy: They have a million questions, not about the photos or exhibit but the set up. How much is your camera? What lens do you use? Do you know how much XX lens costs? How much do you earn? How much are these boards? (Proceed to finger and poke the board).

The docent: God love them. They are usually locals with a lot of free time and a love for attention. Once they grasp the concept and details, they’d take over with show and tell, often in Shanghainese. They’d draw crowds with their booming voices and large gestures and sometimes add a bit of their own narrative along the way. Rarely does the docent register my presence, it’s about them and their thoughts on someone else’s platform. I take what I can and appreciate them for their enthusiasm.

The archivist: My favorite. They are almost all older local residents who have lived in the neighborhood for decades. One was a retired civil servant of the local housing co-opt in Hongkou. He gave me an exhaustive list of places I should visit before they were completely demolished, and even gave me his contact number for follow up. Through their their wisedom, I learned a great deal of the various types of housing that used to pepper the old districts that no longer exist and the history of neighborhoods long past. I love that the photos gave them a platform to share their memories and intricate knowledge of the city. They have a firm finger on the pulse of old Shanghai, and are invaluable contributions to its living history.

The Roving Exhibit isn’t over though the sticky summer heat may be a bit of a challenge. If you want to sell lemonade alongside me to draw crowds, let’s talk. Enjoy the video if you haven’t already!

10
Jun

twocities Conversations: I’ll be speaking about The Roving Exhibit

By Sue Anne 0 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications and The Roving Exhibit

I’m quite excited about my upcoming talk on The Roving Exhibit which will be at the twocities gallery in the Moganshan arts space, a very lovely part of town.

I am looking forward to sharing what started this crazy project and stories of tough critics and holding court with an audience ranging from large groups of residents to the lone roadsweeper. And of course, a more general discussion on documenting street stories in Shanghai.

And yes, the photoboards will be there though only for the evening.

If you have any questions you want addressed during the talk, don’t hesitate to leave a comment.

Hope to see you there and don’t hesitate to come by and say hello!

Date: June 17th, Friday
Time:  7:30 pm – 9pm
Location: twocities gallery 双城现代手工艺术馆
2/F, Bldg 0, 50 Moganshan Lu, 莫干山路50号0号楼2楼

Sue Anne Tay, photographer and author of the popular blog, ShanghaiStreetStories.com, takes her photography back to the original sites via the use of portable photo boards in her latest project, “The Roving Exhibit”. Travelling across older neighborhoods such as Hongkou and Dongjiadu, Sue Anne’s exhibit engages and elicits reactions from some of Shanghai’s long-standing residents.

In a casual and intimate setting, Sue Anne will discuss with twocities her inspirations for “The Roving Exhibit”. Join us for stories from exhibit patrons and their varying impressions of street photography, the pace of urbanization and the plight of their disappearing neighborhoods.

Sue Anne’s photography has been exhibited around Shanghai and published in The Atlantic, Foreign Policy and others. She is also a co-author of “Still More Shanghai Walks: Shanghailanders & Shanghainese – Where They Lived, Worked and Played” (Old China Hand Press, 2011). Most recently, she spoke at this year’s Shanghai and Suzhou Literary Festivals.

12
May

The Roving Exhibit: Last stop of the day

By Sue Anne 0 Comments
Categories: The Roving Exhibit

He had a most unusual stand along the street market on Dongyuhang Lu (东余杭路), like a giant pharmacy of traditional Chinese medicine. It sold herbs and accoutrements that belonged to animals I’ve never heard or seen, in whole pieces, in ground powder, in jars, bottles and vacuum packs.

In the winter, he stood out wearing a giant ushanka, a Russian fur hat with ear flaps that can be tied up to the crown of the cap. His prized fox stoles would be laid out on a makeshift bunk stretcher. The head of a winter fox hung sadly off the side, one glassy giving away its pre-death sadness of being wrapped around someone’s neck.

In the fall and spring, deer antlers and horns of unfortunate forest creatures would take front row places, next to boxes of unidentified ginseng floating in jars and boxes of dried herbs. He’d swtich to a cowboy hat.

I’ve known the gentleman for over two years since I began photographing the Tilanqiao (提篮桥) street market. We had taken a photo together when we first met. I returned weeks later with a copy and we would sit and chat every time I walked by. I’d talk about Singapore while he would talk about Northern China where he had moved around most of his life. We were both outsiders in this city.

A Northerner he was, tall and sturdy with ruddy cheeks. He was from Inner Mongolia, worked in Shandong province and now does most of his business in Shanghai. He lived nearby in a tiny room where he paid RMB 500 (USD 77) a month for rent. He would return home to Inner Mongolia in the summers, taking an especially long vacation during the Shanghai Expo last year when local officials shooed most street hawkers away.

Towards the early evening on the day I carried my photo boards for The Roving Exhibit, I decided to take a rest at his stall after setting up in various other spots all afternoon.

He proudly wiped the photo boards down and balanced them on his chairs, tilting the fluorescent light he had hanging over his stall. With the dinner rush at 630pm, in a street market that turns even more lively after dark, it was prime time with a ready audience.

As I sat on the pavement nearby for a drink, he began a one man monologue on photography in the street market to whoever stopped by for a gander.

“Have you had a look at this picture?” he said to a middle-aged woman browsing a pack of tea leaves. She registered no interest and left. “And what about you, sir? What do you think of these photos?” The customer studied the photo and asked about the price of a vacuum packed American ginseng. Two gents from Wenzhou selling leather shoes lingered, poring over each photograph.

When it was completely dark, I decided to head home. He helped me wrap up my photo boards and gave me a sample of herbs which he said was good for … I forgot. He’d generously given me so many things which I have no idea how to cook.

My last stop of the day was perhaps the best part of the day. I collapsed in a cab and fell asleep all the way home.

December 2010

Introducing the Roving Exhibit

The Roving Exhibit: Where it has been

07
Mar

The Roving Exhibit: Travelling and An Ode to the City

By Sue Anne 2 Comments
Categories: Exhibits, Talks and Publications, Street Stories and The Roving Exhibit

Carrying my photo boards, I trudged across the barren land of a long-demolished Dongjiadu (董家渡）on my way to Wangjiamatou Lu (王家码头路).

Amongst rubble and weeds, I didn’t feel myself in metropolitan Shanghai. I felt like a travelling merchant making a long journey through empty fields, never knowing who I might meet, friend or foe?

I came across a few migrant workers who were making their way to lunch. Their curiousity made me stop and I unfolded my wares to begin a short show-and-tell. It started to drizzle and suddenly, the boards felt more handy as shelter than art.

Yet, I had a thought, to photograph the boards against the very background I had shot a year before. No one entertained me, except for this kind gentleman. Thumbs up to you, sir.

As a segway, the grim weather yesterday kept me indoors meeting a deadline for a book chapter on street photography in Shanghai. Often, musings like these turn into an inevitable ode to Shanghai for all its quirks and craziness.

It reminded me of the short essay I wrote for a Taiwan travel magazine last year. It was translated into Chinese, so I thought I’d share it here in both languages for your reading pleasure.

The only thing I would point out is that we all grow in our perspectives, and I’ve done a bit of growing this past year where the city is concerned.

“The way I see Shanghai” by Sue Anne Tay

 I have always lived in cities.

Before coming to Shanghai, I studied and worked in Los Angeles, Washington DC, New York, London, Hong Kong and Moscow and travelled to fulfill an enduring wanderlust. Growing up in Singapore, there was nothing more exhilarating and natural than to be in the middle of the hustle and bustle of a city.

Continue reading ‘The Roving Exhibit: Travelling and An Ode to the City’

25
Jan

The Roving Exhibit: Dongjiadu

By Sue Anne 3 Comments
Categories: Building the China Dream, The Fading Vestige and The Roving Exhibit

◄ Back
Picture 1 of 7

“Oei, boy!” The uncle motioned for the boy of about 10 who had the attention span of a gnat. “Didn’t you go to school with this kid?” The boy stared fleetingly at the photo of another young boy frozen in front of a giant scaffolding, then nodded.

“I knew that boy in the picture was familiar,” the older man said. He left an oily thumbprint on my photo board, and tried to erase it, only to make the smudge worse. I waved it off. No bother, I said to him. It’s meant for people to probe and point anyways. The photo boards threatened to slide off the two chairs I had pulled from a scrap pile with rusty nails. One was missing a leg.

The second location of my Roving Exhibit was a purposeful decision. Coming full circle, the photos I had taken of Dongjiadu (董家渡) less than a year ago, were on display for a riveted audience of 5 in the Shangchuan Huiguan (商船会馆) or Merchant Shipping Hall. It was a symbolic gesture. Only the Hall was left, its entire radius of old longtang shikumen housing had been flattened and demolition continued westward. Over the months that I shot in Dongjiadu, I met and photographed the children who lived in the surrounding flats and treated the demolition site as their personal playground.

They were gone, of course. Scattered to the winds. Or to Pudong and Baoshan, to be more specific, distant suburbs of metropolitan Shanghai. I recalled that day, the children chased after bulldozers which were carting away tons of bricks and stone, pretending it was an imaginary battleground. Peasants were scrambling all over the place like mice in a field, scavenging for scrap steel.

None of the three men who held court over my photos were Shanghainese or native to the neighborhood but they remember. One man and his family from Anhui lived next to the crumbling Hall, the only structure left unharmed for preservation (though the interior has all but rotted). He was thin and quiet with large sunken eyes. His louder and more opinionated colleague hailed from Chongqing and was a local tour operator who had lived in Shanghai for several years. And by ‘operator’, he handled all the petty logistics including currency exchange. He pulled out from his man bag, a thumb length wad of US dollars – twenties and hundreds. The third gentleman from Jiangsu puffed thoughtfully on his cigarettes.

They recognized almost all the photos from the Dongjiadu area, recalling the frenzied demolition activity over the past year and speculating future plans for the space. “Office, probably not residential. Who knows? But it will be pricey, at least multiple times the prices now.” They were the people associated with it. I had encountered many demolition operators and scrap collectors from Anhui and Chongqing, whose entire outfits – from labor to the management – came from the same township, if not region.

This was not a group to wax nostalgia over the neighborhood although they were familiar with some of the Shanghainese residents who moved out in droves. They helped me to mentally map out the old Dongjiadu but there was little sentimental talk to be had.

The rest of the half hour long conversation centered on real estate investment (“Who’s going to stop this investment? Where else can all the money go?”) and property taxes and curtailment policies (“Beijing, Shanghai, the usual big cities. And Chongqing, definitely Chongqing”). Nowadays, when people gather in China, we all caw about inflation. First food then real estate, an escalation of needs and affordability. At the time of our discussion, the Chinese government had put in place restrictive mortgage stipulations: Higher down payments for second homes, no more loans for third homes or more, the definition of what constituted a “third” home was tightly drawn.

Yet, the men I was standing with all had at least two properties each, one in their hometowns and here in Shanghai. Modest ones, they assured me. After all, they were just simple folk in a rich town, so out of their league. I believed them. They all lived in the dilapidated housing to save on rent, grow their own food to save costs and gave their accompanying families at least a warm and safe place to live. If there were less than legal activities to be carried out, it was just another shade of gray in a world where black and white were moving goal posts of morality.

The stockmarket is a casino, absolute rubbish, the Chongqing man said. Channeling Donald Trump, he said, real estate is always good, as far as he was concerned.

At which time, he put out a second call to a friend on his mobile. “Oei, you coming or what? You’ve got to see these photos.”

November 2010

Introducing the Roving Exhibit

The Roving Exhibit: Anguo Lu

10
Jan

A review of 2010 (part four)

By Sue Anne 2 Comments
Categories: Behind the Camera Interviews, Street Stories, The Fading Vestige, The Lives Within and The Roving Exhibit

I trust everyone had a nice weekend?

This is the last installment of my review of 2010. Posting slowed down a tad in those few months due to travelling and more personal projects, but the individual posts have grown more substantial and I hope quality trumps quantity in this regard.

The first week of the new year is behind us, and we’re on to new and exciting things. If you’ve made it through most of your new year resolutions, good on you!

October: “Before and after on Sinan Lu” – For those who live in Shanghai, you might have ventured to Sinan Mansions, the latest trendy F&B and leisure development to have sprouted in the French Concession. Developers have called it a new approach to preservation but most would find it underwhelming if not generic. I photographed the original interiors of a few old villas across from Sinan Mansions which served as dormitories for workers of the development. Have a look, because the interiors are expected to be completely ripped out and rebuilt with new materials as part of Sinan Mansions’ expansion. Yea, that’s how some interpret “preservation”.

November: An action-packed month. Street photography ruled again this month, with a thought-piece on why street photography remains unpopular in China. A small discussion ensued and continued offline, and I remain grateful for readers’ feedback. Local street photographer Tui also weighed in on the relationship between street photography and his rather complex feelings toward Shanghai in his Behind the Camera interview.

Oh yes, if you like fast cars, I photographed the DTM (Deutsche Tourenwagen Masters) Shanghai 2010 here and here.

December: It was all about my new project, The Roving Exhibit. Why and how I am carrying out the exhibit. And the first experimental session held next on the sidewalk in the middle of a street market. There is no space for ego here, only a thick hide and a wicked sense of humor.

A review of 2010 (part one) (part two) (part three)

 

31
Dec

The Roving Exhibit: Anguo Lu

By Sue Anne 10 Comments
Categories: The Roving Exhibit

◄ Back
Picture 1 of 7

My first patron hovered quietly at first, peering over my shoulder as I set up my photo boards. Timidly, she asked if I had taken the photographs. I nodded.

Pondering a while more, she suddenly blurted, “It’s okay, I guess. Your photography needs a bit more work. Like that photo of the chicken hawker for example, the man next to her has his head cropped off. You shouldn’t do that.”

Satisfied with her two cents worth, she ambled back to her makeshift stall selling socks and kitchen towels. A bit thrown off, I thought to myself: Well, this should be interesting.

Choosing the inaugural location

Earlier in the day, I had picked up my freshly printed photo boards and decided that there was no better time than to begin the Roving Exhibit.

For the inaugural exhibit, I chose to set up in the street market in Tilanqiao which I photographed frequently. I knew many of the vendors and familiar territory bode well in case of any potential “interventions”.

Finding good real estate on a busy sidewalk of a street market is hard. Avoiding Dongyuhang Lu (东余杭路) due to the mess of hawkers selling vegetables, fish and poultry, I settled in on Anguo Lu (安国路). Street traffic wasn’t too overwhelming and was made up of mostly vendors selling sundries and residents playing cards or carom.

I negotiated the use of two old rickety chairs from a husband and wife street barber duo to hold my photo boards. The lady boss cheerily said it should provide some entertainment for her waiting customers. The husband seemed less enthused.

Curious and curiouser

Traffic was halting initially but the ebb and flow of patrons was diverse if not amusing to watch. Neighbouring vendors selling a kaleidoscope of knick knacks popped over when they had a free moment while keeping a watchful eye on their wares.

Sometimes, cyclists would wheel toward the boards or just slow down for a glance. My area was kept clean as the street sweeper would absently sweep the same spot as he examined the photos. Lingering patrons sat on stools while waiting for their haircut next door. Customers of nearby vendors had an occasional glance but found shopping a lot more interesting.

Reactions ranged from scepticism, amusement to bafflement. The first and most common question posed by residents when they pass by was: “What is the point of this?” I spent much of my time explaining the intention of the exhibit and describing the location behind each photo. It was entirely free, or just art’s sake, I added to one gentleman in particular. He eyed me suspiciously as he slowly walked away.

Tough crowd, tough love

It was interesting to observe how the conversations essentially broke down into two groups:

Shanghai residents were often more conversationally engaged with the photos. They immediately identified the idea of 动迁 (dong qian) – the process of moving out of old homes after government negotiates a settlement. Naturally, the discussions almost always drifted toward real estate, a given in China, the impact of 动迁 (dong qian) i.e how much or little money one can make from it, how to prepare for it etc.

Due to the fact that I spoke no Shanghainese, or appeared to live in the neighborhood, the Shanghainese residents would engage amongst themselves. A few would hold court in front of the photo boards, some taking upon themselves to introduce and explain the work. Feedback ranged from cursory acknowledgement to extensive critiques on how and what I photographed. “Why are the colors like this?” “You need to have signs that tell us what they are.” “Why don’t you shoot this and not that?” This was not a place to seek effusive praise.

Memorable conversations too centered on camera equipment (they always, always wanted to know the cost of my gear) and one resident in particular, who worked with the local housing danwei, gave me his contact information while advising where else I should photograph in the area.

The other group was migrant workers, distinguished by their length of stay in the city and familiarity with Shanghai. They focused more on the the style and composition of the photos. Several noted details like colors, shadows and objects that others had missed. There were definitely some who focused entirely on cost: how much the camera and lens cost, the printing cost and if I had a job and how much I earned in Shanghai and if not, Singapore. It seemed natural, having left home for economic reasons, to sketch their world by value of what they can and cannot have.

All in all…

The exhibit lasted for about 3 hours. The repeated conversations and swirling wind were tiring me out. As the skies darken and dinner time beckoned, the crowds grew but were mainly hurried. Without any street lamp to aid browsing patrons, I called it a day and packed up, bidding adieu to my gracious hosts, the street barbers, for their hospitality and chairs.

November 2010

Learn more about the Roving Exhibit.

14
Dec

Introducing The Roving Exhibit

By Sue Anne 11 Comments
Categories: The Roving Exhibit


It has been more than a month and a half since I embarked on what I have titled Shanghai Street Stories: The Roving Exhibit.

I have refrained from writing about the project, mainly because I needed to do a bit more legwork so as to thread together more coherent observations. So far, so good. But I am eager to introduce the project, the motivation behind it and logistics of the exhibit, which has been half the fun.

What the Roving Exhibit is about

The idea of a portable photo exhibit to showcase specifically in Shanghai’s old neighborhoods had been percolating in my head for over six months. The more I explored and photographed the lives and environs of Shanghai’s disappearing neighborhoods, the less I felt I knew.

Of all the people who had viewed and commented on the documentary work undertaken by my peers of Old Shanghai (you can learn more about them here), I was most curious about the opinions of the people we photographed.

The hope is that the photos will elicit a variety of responses (or lack thereof) and maybe go as far as to initiate casual conversations among residents on the spot. In the time that I have blogged and published Shanghai Street Stories, I have received constructive critiques about my photography – the textures, composition, style and subjects etc.

But for this travelling exhibit, what is it that the residents will notice most? The people? The buildings?  The style of photography? Will they recognize the neighbourhoods? How do they feel about it – nothing or everything?

How the exhibit came about

I was first inspired by a similar street exhibit started by Akshay Mahajan and Kapil Das, also behind the photo commune Blind Boys.org. They rallied photographers to post and share their work on public walls in major cities across India, including Mumbai, New Delhi and Bangalore.

Calling it “A Photographic Street Intervention”, the instructions were simple: gather at the announced location with your photos and double-sided tape and plaster away. The idea of “guerilla exhibition” is not new of course, but this particular movement has since evolved across borders from the Philippines to Paris.

I love the spontaneity and accessibility involved – bringing street photography to the street! However, I didn’t want the hassle of posting photos on public walls, disturbing someone’s property or worse, having them inevitably ripped down by the police. I wanted an enduring exhibit that could last for months. More importantly, I wanted to travel with my photos on my own time and schedule.

Logistics, the photo board and logistics …

I had contemplated several options. Plaster the photos to a foldable sheet of tarpaulin that I can carry around in a grocery bag. But that meant I had to find hooks to secure the tarpaulin sheet wherever I set up. Too bothersome.

While glancing through a Chinese photography magazine, I came across a team of young photographers in Guangzhou who had travelled in the city’s metros carrying photo boards as part of a travelling exhibit. I was immediately struck by its simplicity and mobility.

Finally, I modified the idea of having the photos printed directly on the board itself for easy carrying. Logistics wise, it has worked out. The board is a tad big for my small frame, but still manageable.

I’ve placed them on rickety chairs that I borrowed from anyone who will lend me, rested them against walls and even just flat on the floor. They’ve been available on sidewalks, in open-spaced shops and even in a make-shift parking lot.

The reactions on the other hand, have been a combination of the cliché and the unexpected. I look forward to sharing more next time.

Follow me

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Flickr
  • RSS Feed

All rights reserved

Please do not use content from this website without the author's permission.

Blog translated

EnglishFrenchGermanItalianPortugueseRussianSpanish

Subscribe to the blog