Archive for March, 2010

31
Mar

We are but a shirtless belly away

We flung outselves into Spring’s embrace a few days ago under sun-soaked rays, light breezes and an explosion of blooming flowers.

Other signs make it hard to forget that May is but round the corner.

“SHANGHAI EXPO IS COMING!”
“SEE THE HAIBAO VIDEO!”
“Extra security! Speed up the demolition! New roads! Confused cabbies! Visitors from out of town all in the same month. HAVE YOU BOUGHT YOUR TICKETS TO THE EXPO YET?”

Just in case you weren’t aware that the Shanghai Expo is happening. We’re all at the edge of our seats here.

Then, the spring months will pass and before we all know it, summer will be here.

Cue the moans. The hot, the sticky and the smelly.

Cue. The invasion of the shirtless bellies.

You wouldn’t know where to look.

August 2009

30
Mar

Family business

 

Children are excellent sales people at the market. Adorable ones attract browsing customers, even if you’re just selling garlic and ginger. 

To call this grandmother’s place of merchandise a stall is a bit of a stretch. She had two baskets of produce that registered a few coins per purchase. Yet it seemed like a way to pass the time while caring for her grandchildren. 

The family was from Shandong province, as were their neighbouring vendors. The market street was sometimes clustered according to your province and hometown, common in migratory patterns.

An old security guard stopped by, played with the children for a bit and bought a few pieces of ginger. Barely 3, the older child, after wiping her snot-riddled fingers on her clothes, picked up the produce awkwardly and bagged them while everyone watched her move in painfully-slow motion.

Next to her, the baby boy, wrapped up in a permanent ball of fleece, simply stared into space while concentrating on standing upright, with much futility.

“Good girl!” a few people clapped enthusiastically when the girl sucessfully bagged the produce. She giggled at the attention.

Suddenly, from behind us, someone snapped in jest, “Oei! Little girl, hurry up! I’m in a rush. Two pieces of garlic.”

More about Shanghai’ street markets here and here.

January 2010

29
Mar

Work’s Momentum

In their hands, these workers carried bricks that once made up houses that are now no more, in neighborhoods that the next generation will have no idea once existed.

Their prerogative is only to deconstruct and construct. This side of history, by no fault of theirs, has nothing to do with them.

Taken west of Shangchuan Huiguan (商船会馆), a former temple and lone structure in a vast ocean of concrete rubble. Even children who played amidst what was left over of the neighborhood, are not likely to recall what it used to be.

March 2010

26
Mar

Behind the Camera: Katya Knyazeva on Documenting Old Town (老城厢)

 

Katya Knyazeva is a journalist, book designer and fine artist from Russia. Her illustrated books and graphic novel have been published in Korea, and a book about Shanghai’s Old Town is on the way. She writes about cuisine, culture and urban form, and documents Shanghai’s neighborhoods using vintage cameras. For 3.5 years, Katya has been dedicated to capturing details of the city’s historical houses and its facades, researching its history and sharing it with the public. 

Website: http://artisanlibrary.com 

1. Your photostream reflects years of discovery and research of Old Shanghai architecture and way of life. When and how did you get into documenting places and their details? 

KK: Nighttime photo-walks became a habit a few years ago when I lived in Korea. Superficially, Korean cities seem like an endless replication of same elements: apartment compounds, clean embankments, sodium streetlights. But I remember the first time I wandered around with a camera and stumbled on a hillside community of improvised gardens, with terraces made from old doors, discarded television sets and copper funnels. This turned my companion and me into ‘flaneurs.’ Every night, we’d bring a camera, take the subway to a different stop and go wandering around with a camera, getting entangled in a strange neighborhood. Each time we lost our way, we found surprises. When we moved to Shanghai, we just continued to do the same thing. 

2. What other aspects of street photography do you focus on? 

KK: Compared to Korea, Shanghai has such luscious and diverse city landscape, sometimes in a single image you can trace years of the history of a house or a street corner. Human habitation is a natural force, just like erosion, and I’m drawn towards neighborhoods and buildings that show the effects of long years of adaptation. It’s only recently that I’ve become a little more systematic, especially regarding artifacts of old Chinese culture in the former walled city. 

3. How do people generally react to your presence and intentions when you’re photographing? 

KK: Being able to speak some Chinese opened many doors – and closed some. Once I barged into the beautiful Writers’ Association mansion on Julu Lu (巨鹿路) just with a simple ‘hi’, and the guard had no vocabulary to stop a foreigner. A year later I spoke to him in Chinese and he refused to let us in. Frankly, the poorer or more precarious the neighborhood, the more gracious, curious and welcoming are the residents. 

 

Continue reading ‘Behind the Camera: Katya Knyazeva on Documenting Old Town (老城厢)’

24
Mar

The ubiquitous Chinese electric bike

“In the chaotic ecosystem of Chinese roadways, the electric bike fits in right where the infernal moped might have once hoped to go, as a stepping stone for growing families or a low-cost option for commuters.

For anyone who has not been to China, it is easy to lose sight of just how big a deal this is: China has twenty-five million cars, but it has four times as many e-bikes.” ~ Evan Osnos, “The Turtle King Revolution”, Letter from China, The New Yorker

Taken on Lanxi Road (兰溪路)

March 2010

23
Mar

Nostalgia in harmony

“The only thing better than singing is more singing.” ~ Ella Fitzgerald

One of the best ways to experience the city is to immerse yourself in the many public parks around Shanghai. There are small parks that accommodate a few chess games, body exercises and common assemblies of retired conversationalists. Larger parks like Lu Xun Park (鲁迅公园) contain a spectrum of activity that warms the heart and cheers the spirit.

Come late afternoon as the sun slides lazily into the early evening, tens of middle aged to the elderly would throng about in large groups in accordance to their indulgences. Some dance, others sing and most do both.

In the centre of Lu Xun Park, there is a large group that does the waltz, tango or cha-cha. Sometimes they dance en mass to a booming speaker that is owned by an accompanying cowboy on guitar. Other times, they surround an outstanding pair or two who twirl and move seamlessly in circles.

But almost all the time, everyone sings.

A few have songbooks that reveal old lyrics from the Communist era filled with patriotism but mostly of nostalgia. They blend into a harmony of voices – tenors mixed with sopranos that are supported by baritones. The more they sang, they more they smiled, some serene and others mile-wide with glee.

In that free space, they lose themselves to fresh air, swaying trees in balmy winds and amongst companions who have experienced life as much as the next person. Yet there was no need to talk about the past when you can share it in song in the present.

April 2009

22
Mar

The world as their playground

Well detailed here, the area surrounding Shangchuan Huiguan (商船会馆) in Old Town, also known as Merchant Shipping Hall, has been completely flattened and the radius of demolition continues expanding in full force. Built in 1715, it was a place for business traders to congregate for wheeling and dealing or to rest for the night before hopping back on their boats moored off by the port along the Huangpu River (黄浦江). While the structure itself is authorized for preservation, everything else has fallen to the wrecking ball. At least 5 streets now no longer exist, their road signs standing in irony.

In this vast track of land, unnatural in Shanghai’s dense urban jungle, there was much activity. In addition to construction workers shoveling rubble, speeding bulldozers, and a web of scavengers, children from surrounding neighborhoods were peppered across the landscape.

There is so much to play with – puddles of water with rocks of all sizes, endless discoveries of discarded knick knacks and miles of dust to build sand castles. The children were oblivious to the sea of roaring engines and whipped up dust storms, only mindful of the playground beyond their doorstep.

March 2010

Continue reading ‘The world as their playground’

19
Mar

A tell tale sign of what used to be

This may seem unremarkable at first glance, but the location was previously a circular turret building which once housed Horn’s Imbiss Stube (Horn’s Snack Bar) and Cafe Atlantic, common meeting places for many Europeans (many of whom were Jewish refugees) who lived in Hongkou district during the 1930s and 40s. Back then, it was known as the heart of Little Vienna. More background here and here.

Its doomed demolition began sometime around September of last year and I watched week by week as the roof and walls came down.

By January of this year, it had become a near empty plot of land, save for the side skeleton of what used to be shophouse fronts.

I found it odd that this worker was building a brick wall around a demolished site. Upon closer inspection, I realised that one of the shop fronts, all of which were made of old stone, was in English.

I came to the conclusion that the place was most likely once owned by a European family. It made the most sense given its location. After the mass exodus of foreigners from Shanghai post 1949, the shop head was covered rather than painted over, with new headers, which evolved from cloth banners to wooden sign boards to what are now mostly plastic sign boxes with fluorescent lights attached within.

A fortuitous deed for posterity, a little tell tale sign of history, but gone the last time I stopped by.

Taken along 海门路 (Haimen Lu) and 长扬路 (Changyang Lu)

December 2009

18
Mar

Lining up the tiles

He had a smirk on his face that came as quick as it disappeared. A winning hand perhaps?

It was hard to tell with the room thick with cigarette smoke and the clattering sounds of mahjong tiles on wood.

I had ducked into the hallway of a 3-storey house. Standing next to a large wooden red door, I heard low murmurings that gave way to loud yelps of triumph. It was a victory so spectacular that people were yelling back and forth with loud thumps of the table signaling another go at Lady Luck.

I knocked hesitantly, wondering if I was walking into some gang-related activity. A middle-aged man opened the door with a cigarette in his mouth and frowned at me. Behind him, the frenzy behind muffled doors revealed China’s all-time favorite indoor activity: mahjong.

A game of mahjong, poker or anything that involves the thrill of hedging money will draw neighbors and friends round a table like that of a free buffet. A winning hand would inevitable draw chuckles, hoots and backslaps.

But it seemed that the mahjong table had entered the 21st century. The whole contraption was mechanized such that with a touch of a button, the middle section would open up and you could dump your tiles in to be automatically shuffled. Another button would elevate your arranged tiles into 4 lines in front of each player. The entire contraption started at a modest RMB 1,500, ready to light up and boogie at your pleasure.

December 2009

17
Mar

Next door, next to go

If you walked by too quickly, you would have missed her.

A crowd had gathered to watch an ongoing demolition of a row of old houses. Some were residents from nearby neighborhoods; others had simply nothing better to do.

A few children stared, mouths agape with wonderment at the massive excavator at street level, as if waiting for it to unfold into a giant robot.

The old houses, or what was left of them, had survived awkwardly next to the Dalian metro station and were rapidly outnumbered by gleaming luxury condominiums. Mostly abandoned and decaying, the facelift was inevitable.

Adjacent to the commotion, an old woman who looked to be in her 60s if not older was sitting outside her home, staring vacantly at her surroundings. She seemed unperturbed by the noise, or maybe she was just used to living right by the noise and pollution of vehicular traffic.

There was a loneliness about her that was so palpable, made more stark by the sprawling concrete around her where a neighbor’s house once stood.

A thousand questions rang in my head. I’ve never shied away from speaking with people I photograph. But this old woman’s indifference felt so impenetrable, I left her alone. With the constant reminder of her inevitable move, she did not need to recount her loss to yet another stranger.

Taken along Changyang Road (长扬路) by Dalian (大连) Metro Exit 4

March 2010

Continue reading ‘Next door, next to go’




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