Wall Paper

1
01

I went to Computer City in Beijing's Zhongguancun the other day. Just above the elevator which was always crowded, I noticed a multi-screen panel which - aside from showcasing numerous advertisements - had a small panel colour digital photographs of natural landscapes. The photos morphed gradually from one to the other in a somewhat random manner; yet each one possessed a composition and view which was akin to the others. To put it simply, they all portrayed a type of ultimate perfection, or what is commonly termed as an "ideal" view. In fact, you could find such sample photographs in any computer's picture collection.

These pictures had unexpectedly aroused a strange melancholy in me. It is as they are delicate yet pale embodiments of our pursuit of the ideal life. This is a perfect type of world. However because what we have before us is already too perfect, there is neither a need for change nor a way to change. The only thing to do is to increase the rate at which technology advances.

Does that flat and rootless world only have a mere illustrative purpose now, as a result of excessive idealisation?

2

02

"As a construction within the centre of the community, the theatre is the largest illuminated structure, with lights and projections cast upwards into the area's skyline, thus merging seamlessly with the city lights. These will naturally also be shone onto the bodies and faces of people, thus creating a scene akin to the finale of At the Threshold of an Era1, where you have the bustling city before you, inhabited by various accomplished individuals - a vision of ultimate success..."

The above was taken from modern MOMA's real estate press release and plans - and in fact, the advertising phrases used in the write-up demonstrate three major characteristics of MOMA as the "Best Building" of contemporary times:

1. The architect has become an author / movie director;
2. The user has taken on a role in the architect's script;
3. Reality has become the novel/movie's set.

This transformation of reality has created a sort of comedic contrast to reality itself: Beijing's polluted skies has become saturated with the dolor of this generation, such that the "characters" residing within the city experience the overpowering and desperate sense of ruin whilst living there, and hence would suddenly come to a stark realisation of the true tragedy of our epochal blockbuster. As such, in Beijing in 2008, Steven Holl's MOMA would appear to be an excellent location for renowned director Jacques Tati's Playtime. Yet, the prophetic words of Tati would have also been forgotten: "After my death, the rights to film a sequel of Playtime can be given to anyone but architects."

3
03

As I was packing up some old stuff, I chanced upon 2 sets of pagers which had been unused for a long time. They were placed side by side - one had belonged to me, and one to her. I suddenly remembered how these pagers had touched our hearts in the past. Yet today, when they have lost their utility, they are just like tea dregs, and only serve as reminders of specific individuals. These beepers have also become hyper-physical, where the fervour from the transmittance of tender and flirtatious messages has unconsciously permeated into their veneer and substance. As you gaze upon the traces left by the one who had used the device, as you gently caress it, it could even lead you to recall a particular rainy night in the south, when you were waiting behind a queue of various people lining up to use the phone in front of a shop: your hands were anxiously cradling the pager, your fingers touching its plastic corners fretfully, as if they were anticipating the coming phonecall having the power to alter the course of your life.

At this moment, these pagers were huddled together, their inner mechanisms already turned off. As I scrutinised them, I thought about how these reproductions in our mechanical age still possess such a mysterious aura around them, as if they are patiently waiting for a new life to begin.

The text has been published by Metroposlis M, 2009 No.4 (August/September), Holland