Sensual City Studio

WALLS AND PATHS

Many books have been written about the typologies of the built space in Shanghai, in terms of form, in terms of function and even in terms of the absence of both. Many have dissected its built forms and subdivided them into many categories. But we can all agree that Shanghainese walls are both impermeable and porous, solid and fragmented, opening and closing gaps in the city.
In the Chinese tradition, it is written that ghosts cannot walk along paths that turn around corners. Furthermore, they have to take on the form of the bridges in Chinese gardens in order to cross the ponds they straddle.
In Chinese philosophy, a walk through a garden should command all of a person’s attention, as there is only one time and one space: the here and now. The lack or presence in a given dimension of railings, which are more decorative than functional, is to exalt this dimension of being. Being lost in one’s thoughts can result in one  falling into a pond… in the here and now.

FAKE BUILDINGS

The first long day in Shanghai was long in terms of time, but the more it passed, the more we tended to forget about it, being brought back to reality only by occasional biological reminders: hunger, thirst and the need to go to the toilet.
At a certain point, it became obvious that I was not in fact a superhero, but merely human. The message my body was sending me was loud and clear: “Hey, it’s time to go to the toilet!” But where? Whom should I ask? How does it even work here?! I panicked.
After seeing my pained face, a friend said to me, “Let’s go together; I’m bursting too.” We decided to go to the building that looked the newest, where we would ask to use the toilet. My friend assured me that “there’ll be a Western toilet there for sure. You know… one with a seat…” We both walked determinedly at a brisk pace.
Then we saw it: a marble building, all clean and shiny, with a blue glazed façade. We were in the centre of Shanghai, after all.
We opened the door, entered the foyer, and…  well, there was not much to see.
It was still a rough construction site.
Despite this surprise, we still really needed to go. So we asked the porter. He pointed at a wooden box within this huge, empty building. It turned out there were no Western toilets after all, or indeed anything remotely similar.
Since then, I have stopped trusting façades.

DÉRIVE

Thanks to Shanghai’s safety, size and language barrier, it is the perfect city in which to dérive – to drift, to wander…
Get in a taxi, walk, take a bus, follow any metro line, until you arrive somewhere…
Get lost and discover the metropolis.

INAUGURATION

Happiness is not silent in Shanghai. When a boy is born, or when a happy couple gets married, or when a couple moves into the new home they have bought together , or when a shop opens its doors for the first time… all these events are good reasons to show one’s happiness to the entire neighbourhood and beyond. Rows of red firecrackers are set off, red ornaments adorn the street, and photographs galore are taken.

ANCESTORS 2

Investing in a coffin is what many work their whole lives for. Some acquire it very early on; owing to its size, it tends to become part of the furniture, in some cases being used as a shelf, a bed, a table, or an armoire. It is typically painted and decorated, always ready to serve.
There are still some cemeteries, as in ancient Chinese times, where there are “tomb guards” – guardians who are paid to accompany the ancestor to his or her eternal bodily home. These are real human beings, in flesh and blood, who will talk to the ancestor, regale him or her with stories of those left behind, and, of course, eat with the ancestor, for whom a fresh bowl of rice is always provided, but with just one chopstick placed on top, as the other chopstick is in the world of the afterlife, with the ancestor.
The importance of this coffin, this house, is of indisputable importance for Chinese ancestors, as it is their perpetual home, as well as for their relatives, so that they are able to uphold the values of filial piety, passed on from generation to generation.

A SHANGHAINESE DAY 3

Before going out again to play mah-jong or carrom with three other neighbours, under the pleasant shade of the plane trees, I fetch my grandson from school. His parents arrive shortly and we all eat together, and perhaps a neighbour drops by, too. I enjoy that very much, as the more of us there are, the better we eat. I don’t like anyone to be hungry, so I get the large table out, to accommodate all the little dishes I’ve prepared. Then it’s time to watch the sunset. We eat, smoke and chit-chat. Now, the golden time begins in Shanghai. My family will take an evening walk in the park, probably already in their pyjamas, because Shanghai is our home, and we don’t relate completely to the notions of private and public. We’ll go and listen to the new open-air karaoke singer that everyone is keen to see and enjoy. He grew up in a lilong that no longer exists. Finally, I’ll go to meet my dancing partner, but, before that, I shall buy my grandson a notebook from a friend who has been selling them on the street corner for the last two weeks. She sets out her merchandise between a guy selling LED kites and another guy selling colourful socks. Later, I’ll go to sleep; tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Let’s hope the temperatures hold up tomorrow.