Sensual City Studio

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.

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.

BALANCE

Balance is not just a word for the Chinese. Neither is it merely the act of remaining vertical in a given place at a given time. Rather, it is about according equal importance to all emotions, and the positioning of the essential places that contribute to the accomplishment of one’s personal rituals.
It is about the dichotomy of all things, which isn’t   necessarily real but perceived. It’s   about how all  forces are interconnected, and how  they complement one another – and how this duality in fact corresponds to unity.

GUESS WHO IS RIDING THE BICYCLE

Shanghai and China historically have an impressive record in terms of the number of citizens who ride bicycles. It is not by chance that the bestselling model of bicycle in the world is Chinese. Flying Pigeon one of the most popular vehicles sold anywhere.
The Chinese have always made great use of bicycles, and they are good at it. They use them as trucks, mobile shops (selling products ranging from gardening items to food), whole-family transport, and as a means of crossing the entire city on a daily basis.
In one particular lilong, I get to meet a man who used the pedal of his bike to set in motion a sharpener he had attached to the wheel in order to file and sharpen all kinds of kitchen utensils.
However, the Shanghainese are not in agreement on certain issues, such as:
– Using bicycle lights at night and/or cycle helmets.
– Riding straight, like a Western cyclist. It is hard to shake the feeling that riding in a straight line might actually be more dangerous than navigating the city streets in a more winding, haphazard way… perhaps there is a secret to this?
– Using hand signals to indicate you are about to turn. In this case, there is just one thing that matters: keeping your arms safe, and using your head, eyes and ears, as the rules of the road in this city are quite different…
And… doing any of the above will immediately mark you out as… a foreigner.

MIMICS

It is remarkable how you can have long conversations “just” using hand movements, facial contractions, bodily contortions and so forth… You find that there is always a way to communicate… well, maybe… actually, no, not always.
The way Westerners represent drinking with a hand gesture, for instance, might turn out to be the gesture for the number six in Chinese; the number eight might be used for indicating a person or object; and the number ten might mean to be close to someone. Most of these hand gestures correspond to the way we learned to make shadow animals on the walls, with our parents, before going to sleep. The way Westerners usually represent eating doesn’t mean anything to most Chinese people… but you can always keep trying… until the person on the receiving end gets bored and leaves, that is.

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.

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.

FEELING SPECIAL 3

We started walking through the lanes, past the many shops. And then, at the junction between the compound and the lilong, a man took out a microphone and started singing. Some people nearby started singing along, too, while others continued to play mah-jong or folded their arms and just listened. We decided to go to the park. It was a hard decision initially, as so many unexpected things were happening in the street and it seemed that even looking away for just a second would mean missing something amazing. I took him by the hand, and we entered the park. He didn’t have to wait long to experience more of Shanghai.
There was a big group of Shanghainese people dancing in couples, and after a while my dad joined them. He was dancing with a woman to music he had never heard before. This became our ritual: we would sit down to eat and then go to the street corner or the park, and then sometimes someone would take my dad’s hand and offer him a folding chair, so that he could sit in the first row and hear that night’s singer more clearly. Othertimes, he would be distracted, and someone would ask him (us) to come back to their home, in one of the lilongs, so that they could explain to us the beauty of the wooden staircase, the spiritual and material value of it, and for how many generations it had served the family. We couldn’t speak Mandarin or Shanghainese, but that was never an issue.
He became like Shanghai: sleepless. And when he had to leave Shanghai, he left behind a whole city that had become a home.