Ripple Effect

> Gao Lei, Water. Metal Sculpture.

Art is like the guest of honor at a family dinner -- everyone's happy to have it around, but once it's gone, belts loosen and everyone can be themselves again. At least that's how it feels in Shanghai, where marketing departments rent out galleries as backdrops for client luncheons or press releases. If Shanghai's commerce is an adolescent version of New York City's, its art scene is a fetus in its 2nd trimester.

But there's good news and then there's better news. The good news is, we can just start making out the features. Two years ago, M50 was the hub for contemporary art. But new galleries are no longer opening at the government-managed site. Instead, gallerists have been choosing to open spaces in the Old French Concession. This is the first sign of organic growth vital to a sustainable art scene.

The better news is that while the international art market is crashing down on its knees, Shanghai has a chance to catch up. A crippled economy means that Chinese artists will be forced to walk without the crutches of foreign collectors and auction houses to oversee their progress. Artists that benefitted from the boom now have enough money to start their own art funds or studio projects to support emerging artists. We should be able to see the artists themselves influencing how and what art is produced.

Crippling Rudeness

> March 2007. Oriental Pearl Tower in Pudong, Shanghai.

Shanghainese people have developed highly effective methods for slowly chipping away at one's humanity. So pervasive and systematic are these incidents, that I have been driven mad on many occasions by what can be defined as a modernised version of Chinese water torture. Their methods consist of an array of violations which, if experienced in isolated instances, could be easily ignored. They are attacks that come in the form of nudges. Constant nudging. Thorough application of these methods result in the increase of tension, blood pressure, irritability, and general poor mental health to dangerously high levels.

The Lean

No matter what line I am standing in, the person behind me inevitably leans ever-so-slightly into me, as if to remind me to move forward. No amount of passive aggressively shoving my bag -- or elbow -- into them seems to successfully convey the message STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

Pedestrian Peril

In what seems to be a general consensus in civilised communities around the world, pedestrians have the right of way. Not so in Shanghai, this city that prides themselves in being the most cosmopolitan in China. All modes of transport, including bipedal, are created equal on the wild roads of Shanghai. Let me be clear: bicycles, electric bikes, motorbikes, QQ's, sedans, and trucks WILL NOT stop for you. They will also not stop for each other. It is a constant game of chicken. There are seemingly no traffic rules, which makes me incredibly curious how traffic school is conducted here. In the end, an unpracticed foot soldier can be left feeling like a cockroach scurrying for cover when the kitchen light comes on.

The Cold Shoulder

No one looks at you. This is the invisible pain. It is the negative space on a canvas filled with shoving, spitting, and shouting. Even -- nay, particularly -- during exchanges where normally customer service is called for, there is no eye contact, no attempt at a smile. Niceties such as "thank you" and "I'm sorry" have ceased to exist in this black hole of common decency.

Users Are Losers

99.9% of my interaction with Shanghainese come in two forms of exchange: money and the promise of money in the future. Unless they know what they want from you, they don't bother.

Visual Assault

Public urination, while wholly acceptable in the countryside and possibly ok during drunken strolls through the park, occurs frequently in broad daylight. Two types of Shanghainese can be seen to unapologetically engage in public urination: middle-aged men and babies. Often cab drivers pull over to piss into the landscaping along the roadside. I once saw a cabbie pull over at a 4-lane intersection during rush hour, walk to his back tire, and piss on his own car. Note, the natives become extremely defensive should you ever bring up the frequent PU sightings. Denial is not just a river in Egypt.

Pick Your Own Chicken Meat Bin

> August 2007. Tesco's, Shanghai.

Well, I guess if they offer loose produce...

David Letterman's Mystery Meat

> August 2007. Tesco's, Shanghai.

What part of what animal is this?

Phantom Digital Files

> September 2007. Jiugulou Dajie, Beijing.

I'm sure I'm not the first to experience the sudden and inexplicable loss of digital images, but it still hurts. It hurts bad. I clutch to their memory for days, unable to shake the feeling that if I could turn on and off the camera in just the right way, they will somehow reappear on the memory stick. In the end, I realise I am powerless to change the situation. Thus, I would like to dedicate this post in memory of the latest images to fall victim to one of technology's mysteries:

1. Images of Hohhot city, where one main avenue is lined with mammoth, recently-erected buildings topped with what look like papier-mache versions of Mongolian-style rooftops and brightly colored Mongolian motifs stenciled onto the sides of these large, white box structures.

2. Two strapping young Muslim men underneath a bare lightbulb, a tall stack of flour sacks in the corner behind them, as they throw and roll dough into shape.

3. A bowl of pickled vegetables that look like maggots.

4. A picture of my leg, with a stranger's leg and arm pressed against me on the long distance bus taking me from Hohhot to the grasslands camp. Throughout the ride, his elbow had a way of finding my hip bone and using it as an armrest. That's called physical intimacy.

5. Image taken from within a dining ger on the Gegentala Grassland of Inner Mongolia. Bright orange velveteen draped from top like a circus tent, down to the horizon of windows running along the circumference of the tent. Through the windows you see sleeping gers huddled together outside, tinted blue by the light of dusk.

6. Image of the humble table spread of the first night's meal: standard white ceramic dishware, large plastic blue thermos full of salty and bitter tea, a hunk of lamp served cut-as-you-eat, sweet corn and kidney beans, stir-fried garlic stems and lamb, steamed rolls.

7. Image of silky-haired goats and filthy woolen lambs grazing in a Restricted Grazing area of the grasslands. The government has begun sectioning off the grasslands and prohibiting grazing in certain areas to protect growth of the actual grass. Possibly unfair, considering that the Han-driven tourism industry is probably disrupting the ecosystem more than the centuries' old nomadic practice. I guess the government sees tourism as better for the economy than preserving a way of life that lives in harmony with nature. (I totally bought into the Mongolian Way).

8. The high, blue sky squatting right on top of a field as far as the eye can see (visibility in the grasslands is excellent). The silhouette of five people stand on the line between heaven and earth, waiting for the bus. Imagine a bus stop in the Nevada desert, except with grass.

9. Old guy riding a motorcycle to heard the sheep and goats.

10. Image of the dreamy Mongolian herdsman who works summers at the camp as a night watchman. Charisma snuck out from within a navy police jacket, the "Police" patch struggling to stay attached, as he stood with his feet apart, resting his weight on his right hip. He squinted towards the West, looking out from underneath dark thick brows and tousled hair with a white felt ger situated behind him. He was planning to spend the winter months singing in Hohhot bars after the autumn grazing concludes.

11. Picture of the gate to the Forbidden City at midnight from across Chang An Jie (possible translation: "Avenue of Lasting Peace") , roughly 20 carlanes wide.

12. Picture of the Museum of the Revolution and the Museum of Chinese History with a Beijing Olympic Countdown LED screen placed smack on top of the wide steps leading to a columned front terrace. Screen sponsored by Rolex.

13. Picture taken from over the shoulder of man flying kite over Tiananmen Square. The length of his kite stretched over a hundred meters into the night sky. People sat nearby watching the kite's mesmerizing languid sway.

Gawking Opportunities Abound; Need Not Apply

Living in a society lacking boundaries of privacy can take some time getting used to. However there is one perk -- the acceptance of pure, unadulterated gawking. Public squabbling and gawking are common and neither seem to carry any social stigma. The scuffle below took place outside Shanghai's largest fabric market.


> March 2007. Dongjiadu market, Shanghai.

Public squabbles are clearly a spectator sport here. Tickets are standing room only and everyone is free to watch, including the security guard who is so interested in the fight, he forgets to break it up...


> March 2007. Dongjiadu market, Shanghai.

Reality Is Overrated

> June 2007. Fuxing Road, Shanghai.

This lovely plastic tarp suggests a hint of Old World sophistication.