Precarious Office: a climate refugee from the future

Precarious Office was a promenade performance that took place earlier this year in Macau. I designed a walking route through the city which started on the southern shoreline, passed through the city centre and arrived at the gallery, Ox Warehouse, who were supporting the artistic residency. 

The starting point was notable as it was off limits: a small patch of trees sunk into the coastal mud, the remains of a mangrove forest which had been cut down to make way for land reclamation. It was here that I was smeared in mud. The smell was ripe; this was salty sea mud and sand. I had to climb over a fence to get down to the beach and this provided the first obstacle of the show: lifting office furniture over this fence then pulling myself over it too.

The route took me through a flat reclaimed area of land which casinos and banks have now colonised, then up a public elevator to the older part of the city. The reactions of passers by were an integral part of the work and there was no shortage of these. In a way the people glued to their phones oblivious to what was going on are just as interesting too. All hell could break loose, but as long as it didn't get between them and their phone, it would be irrelevant.

The performance was given with no explanation, it simply consisted of a tall, western looking man, covered in mud and struggling with office furniture to cross the city. I quite wanted to let the image be itself and not surround it with a story or set of expectations. 

That's not to say I didn't have any intentions or designed it by chance. I have seen many videos and news reports lately of people fleeing flooded homes. I wanted to make this an office space, however, to emphasize the spirit of blind industry that is in no small part playing its role in shaping our current climate crisis. The image had to be kept normal, however, as if this were a routine situation, something that goes without mention.  

The heat, duration and resistance of the materials made this quite a difficult performance. I was in no way acting tired, I genuinely was exhausted and had to use my full energy to make it across the city. It was humid, hot, the plastic started to hurt the skin, the wheels didn't enjoy the bumpy pavement. It was a proper test.

Having arrived at the gallery, the office equipment was then displayed as part of the exhibition with the full length video of its transport playing on the screen. This gave the objects a greater significance, they were not just props for a performance but an integral part of the exhibition. What's more, the sound was edited so that the sound of the office chair rolling over mock historic cobbles was privileged. This was to draw attention to performance like quality of this recently constructed history and to reduce other sounds so that this video could combine more effectively with the other works in the audio space of the exhibition. 

The Mud Man: Walking Art in Macao

On a random Wednesday morning in April I climbed over a tall barrier that blocked off the beach. I was covered in mud head to toe and carry office furniture.

To be precise, I was pushing, pulling, carrying and dragging an office chair, a folding desk, a computer and a monitor. This was a mobile office that was being pulled through the city to the obvious bemusement, not to say disdain, of well dressed passers by.

The small wheels were not designed for pavements and slopes. I had to try really hard to control it all and it became quickly clear that this was not going to be an easy task, it was physically demanding. I threw myself into it and became very focussed on the action, this was the only way I would get it done. Most sensible people would give up here, then again, most sensible people wouldn't do something like this in the first place. 

The first part of this walk cum drag took place on flat reclaimed land next to the casinos. All of a sudden a steep hill rises from the ground and, fortunately, there was a public lift that I was able to squeeze into to take me to the top. I was already feeling wrecked.

Now into the old city proper I pushed on. I don't particularly want to explain why I did this, I rather like the fact that the whole thing was unannounced and people in the street, here too for that matter, had to find their own explanation. I think there is a lack of things in our cities that don't fit but which provoke interesting questions even wonder. More often the things that come out of nowhere are less obvious or less benign. You lose your job because of technology developed half-way around the world or your bills jump sharply because a war. Life itself makes less and less sense and is unstable. 

And onto one of the Portuguese style areas which are beautiful but have these small stone cobbles which are a nightmare to pull a loaded office chair over. Well I guess they were not thinking of that scenario when they paved the streets in traditional Portuguese Calçada. There is an interesting history to these stones, which are not as old as they appear. They were put in place in the dying days of the colonial administration leaving a residual Portuguese mark on the city which has come to be embraced. For me they were not welcome at all! 

An hour and much sweat later I arrived at Ox Warehouse where the exhibition will happen next month. One part of it be the video of this walk, which these still are taken from; another part will be the office equipment itself. If it's still working, it might even be used to show the video, let's see. This question of gallery presentation is a persistent question that many artists have worked with: how to show or share a walk? In this case the walk is a spectacle too so the focus is on the walker as much as on the terrain. I might return to this subject in a further post and look at a few examples of walking art presentations but first things first, a long deep shower, a video to edit and an exhibition to install. Opens May 6th.

From a muddy mangrove to an ex-slaughterhouse: a promenade through Macau

I'm in Macau preparing a performance that I'll film tomorrow. It's a tour in the sense that it is a promenade style of show that travels through the city. The original inspiration was land reclamation, of which Macau has a great deal. The video below shows how Macau has evolved from being three small islands to two substantially larger ones.

The performance will trace a path first over the flat reclaimed land and then up onto the higher ground. It taps into the fear of flooding, something that Macau knows about only too well. The city experienced devastating typhoon flooding in 2017 that left much of the city inundated. That scenario looks only too likely to return with greater frequency now that our global weather patterns are going rogue

The performance is not simply the tracing of this path. I'll be emerging from the mud and sands with a basic office in tow: desk, chair, computer, screen etc. Caked in mud I'll push it through the city and make my way to Ox Warehouse, the contemporary art gallery that is supporting this. It's going to be another hot day, 29 degrees, and the route will probably take over an hour. Even if everything goes right, which is a big assumption, it will be a tough tour. 

It's already looking less straightforward as the gate onto the beach where I start has now been sealed; it was previously unlocked. I'll have to pass everything over a fence and climb over it myself, too. We have permission to do this performance from the local government, so hopefully it won't get stopped, but it is hard to really predict how it will all turn out. That's half the fun.

The locking of the gate may be a blessing in disguise. It means I will begin in the sandy mud at the bottom of these steps, beside the remains of a mangrove forest. The vast majority of it has been uprooted and covered in rocks to make way for casinos, but a small pocket of it hangs on. Since I learned that these rare natural environments sequester up to eight times more carbon than regular forests, I have a special regard for them. They are forests growing out of the coastal mud flats; dense, liminal, teaming with life, they are one of nature's enigmatic zones that holds hidden wonder. I'll be bringing some of that with me through the polished streets tomorrow, a climate refugee from the future on his way to higher ground.

Engeki Quest Macau: a gamebook to explore the city

1. I’m sitting in a busy tea restaurant in Macau, figuring out the menu and talking with theatre producer Erik Kuong. It’s the first time we’ve met since Covid so there’s a lot of catching up to do. Some old men sitting opposite us flick through newspapers and literally shout to one another. He hands me the book Engeki Quest with a faint smile. Do I open the book? (go to paragraph 3) or do I keep talking theatre with Erik? (go to paragraph 2)

2. We talk about what we have been doing and about the changes that have taken place during Covid. We talk about live events and face to face encounters and how there is a generation who have got used to living through their phones. We both wonder how to persuade them to put the phone down for a moment, step outside and go and see live shows. This leads us rather neatly to the book Engeki Quest, which is a sort of outdoor show for an audience of one. (go to paragraph 3)

3. I open the cover and start reading: it is a book about Macau. More specifically, it is a book that will guide its reader around Macau and tell stories at the same time. Unlike conventional tour books which take you on a fixed route from one point to the next, Engeki Quest is written in a “choose your own adventure” style. This means each paragraph is numbered and instead of reading the book from start to finish, you are offered many choices in the text and have to flick forwards and backwards as you go. (go to paragraph 7) 

4. I’m brought to the steps at the foot of St Paul’s where tourists compete with one another to take pictures of themselves in front of the famous facade. I quickly leave them behind and find a quiet space to the side where I’m brought into a story of Japanese migrants coming to Macau to escape the persecution of Christians back in Japan. It’s interesting to be given an identity and asked to imagine the space from someone else’s point of view. To now read about Praça de Luís de Camões (go to paragraph 6) If you’ve already read it (go to paragraph 8)

6. I set off and this route offers so many choices that I quickly become conscious not only of the path I was following but also, as in Robert Frost’s poem The Road Not Taken, of what could have been if you had taken another path. Gentle but persistent rain starts to fall and this gives the walk a greater sense of purpose still. Most sensible people are now under shelter; continuing to walk in this weather is a commitment to finding meaning. If you’d like to read about the route around the Ruins of St Paul’s (go to paragraph 4) if you’ve already read it (go to paragraph 8)

7. The book takes me on a short walk outside the restaurant that introduces the overall theme of amnesia. The instructions are clear enough that I know where I am going while the stories are suggestive enough that they colour the way I look at the street and the buildings surrounding me. There are four separate routes that can be followed; I completed two of them. To read about the route around the Ruins of St. Paul’s (go to paragraph 4) or Praça de Luís de Camões. (go to paragraph 6) 

8. This type of journey could be done using a phone rather than a book but there is something rather engaging about it being in book format. It encourages us to put the phone away and concentrate on the here and now of walking in the city and imagining a story. It is best to do this alone as that gives you space for reflection. You have to be an active participant, not just following the instructions but looking curiously around you, using your imagination and making your own connections. As such, you get as much out of Engeki Quest as you are willing to invest in it. Will it lure the lost generation back outside? Probably not. Will it add some enchantment to Macau for those in search of it? Quite definitely.