Looking Again
On several occasions I have set out to find Nina’s work. On Wednesday I got up early, armed with my camera to seek out 2 structures that I had seen Nina making in the studio. I knew she had left them outside, close to our apartment, to collect rainwater. I spent a considerable amount of time wandering through the grounds of the apartment blocks in our area – but to no avail. I found lots of other things though: chickens, playgrounds, gardens, houses, bamboo, palm trees; all just metres from where I live, unknown to me until now.
Yesterday, while accompanying Nina on Xiao Q’s 4th walk of the day, we again visited the area surrounding our apartment. We discussed how the presence of a dog somehow legitimises loitering in an area or visiting it time and time again. Alerted by a little sideways nod from Nina, I could just make out the allusive structures in the darkness. I returned to the spot today in daylight, and not only found the items that Nina had made but also an interesting scene. Near where Nina’s work was positioned were the foundations of a house, with the kitchen and living areas clearly defined; traces of tiles and interior decoration still present. These foundations gave way suddenly to a huge drop and another never seen before view far across the city.
In the afternoon I set out for another encounter with Nina’s work. This involved revisiting the banks of the Yangtze for the first time since our first week in Chongqing. I knew Nina was going to be spending the afternoon at the site collecting sand. For once I arrived at the perfect time to see her hauling 14 bags of sand up the very steep banks of the river to the road. This activity was not so much performance (she acknowledged my presence and chatted to people who lived nearby) but more a committed gesture. She has decided to collect this much sand and bring it back to the studio and so she does. It is this practical decision that drives the activity, rather than a process of endurance or exercise in provoking a reaction from passers by. Having said that, it is still a focused and consistent series of actions, distinct from mearly collecting materials; the means by which she transports the materials is imperative.
Nina’s work occurs, whether people are there to witness it or not. I just happened to be aware something was happening and fortunate to have arrived in time to view it; I was not an invited audience member. I did feel clumsy crouched in the undergrowth with a camera, but didn’t feel like I was interrupting or hindering the process. From what Nina has told me, each time she has visited this site, something has happened. Whether it be an offer of help, a word of advice, witnessing the vegetable patches rapidly advancing down the river bank or seeing local people gather to shout at the coal lorries thundering past their homes. Her action is set amongst the everyday life surrounding it, not directly communicating with it, but existing alongside and within.
For me, returning to the site was very different from last time. The scene was less abject; partly because of its familiarity and also more bearable now my lungs have adjusted to the local air. My experience was less about the overall guttural impact of the place, although the dust and smog are still very present, and more now about the details site. The crops, the things people have hanging outside their homes, the fish pools on the roofs of houses, the sound of the train, the old man walking along the train track… This site still has great impact, but your reading of the scene alters with each visit.
Jessica Longmore
Friday 3rd December
