Recently, I attended a performance in Tai Kwun Contemporary, an art museum in Hong Kong’s Central.
Cyborg Park by Taiwanese artist Jun-yu Chen explores the idea of constructed nature. “In contemporary city life, we no longer hear the chirping of insects and birds but rather the noise of cars whizzing by and the breathlessness of exercising in the city. Confronting this ‘constructed nature’, the artist Jun-Yu Chen revisits the eccentric sight of picnicking, jogging, and even relaxing in artificial landscapes—by jogging in place on a stack of paper in this durational performance. With the wearing-down of the physical body and the gasps for breath in the space, which are much like an oppressive urban atmosphere, this three-hour-long piece invites audiences to reflect on one’s daily life” (@taikwuncontemporary on Instagram).
My friend and I moved to sit on the turf after a quick walk along the perimeter of the installation. As the artist jogged around us, she asked me if I could force an authentic imagining of the space as “real.” I couldn’t. Even with my eyes closed, the amplified noises were a glaring reminder of the room’s constraints—the chirping birds and Chen’s labored breathing reverberated throughout the entire space. Another thing I noticed was what was nonexistent in the “constructed nature.” There was no wind. Above us was gray ceiling. The turf was prickly, slightly painful. And every sensory input screamed artificial.
K made an interesting point. She said even in city parks, parts of urban landscapes reserved for conserving some piece of nature, she feels suffocated and trapped. The infrastructure of cities creates an oppressive echo chamber that overwhelms her, similar to the installation we were in. Is this not a metaphor for capitalist expansion? How it spills into our sensory world, and occupies every drop of space we believe we have left.
Cyborg Park was a very fascinating experience in how the physical arrangement and artist’s performance called for a critical reflection of urban life’s compression of natural experiences into hyper-controlled and curated encounters. Movement is reduced to meaningless and cyclical repetitions. There is a pervasive (unsettling, when considered) ambience of being trapped. Chen’s performance of static, unproductive movement, and his aggressive gasps for air at the end of the 3 hours, demonstrates the effects of increased alienation from our human essence. Our lived reality is simply exhausting.
I think the internet cares about my opinion (extra):
Silence is commodified. Mindfulness classes, wellness retreats near me, Sony WH-1000XM4 High Quality Wireless Noise Canceling Headphones in blue. We pay for temporary relief from la_traffic_at_530pm_soundeff.mp3. I made a down payment for the new MetaLavenderIncenseQuietAirPurifierPro for my kids to live pollution-free, how about you? Nature is our bitch and it’s $25 (student discount $15) to see those mounds. We topple+tumble over paywalls to ingurgitate and live forever because Nietzsche’s madman wails god is dead. oh god is dead!!!!!! I shine my iPhone flashlight at phantom faces: “WE HAVE KILLED HIM.” But they only press record on my mania, someone plays the “boi what da hell boi” track, and it’s so over. Let’s inject vitamin C into our bloodstreams as a grouping bonding activity : ) And buy the new trending Korean sunscreen that is certified protective against UVA, UVB, UV-the whole alphabet however-the-hell it works. Man, I just don’t want to age–to get all saggy and droopy and unfuckable. Did you know the CEO of Occidental Petroleum is a woman? What a queen / girlboss / etc. I scream “SLAYYYYY” and vomit a thousand genetically engineered locusts to destroy all of American corn. Instead of taking hits from my vape I get buzzed by ecosia’ing “Forbes Richest Self-Made Women in America 2024 List” because it reminds me that women can be capitalists too. The world is fine; let our girls dream. The character limit for X is only 280. I should stop doomscrolling. They’ve queer-ified the toilet paper, I think it’s made up of 70% recycled material now? So when I wipe my ass, I feel like a #activist.
