Daniel Beitler*
A new installment to an ongoing exhibition chronicling the development of neighboring Hengqin has been opened to the public at Ox Warehouse gallery, providing snapshots of the island’s swift urbanization since 2011.
The island and Special Economic Zone, separated by a thin stretch of water from Macau, is home to an estimated 7,500 permanent residents, despite occupying an area three times larger than Macau. But its rapid development over the last decade has some analysts forecasting that as many as 200,000 people will live there by 2020.
Following two earlier iterations of the exhibition in 2011 and 2015, this year’s show has invited seven local photographers and visual artists to reflect on the island’s development.
Through their works, the artists unanimously express their concerns over the fate of the locals and their traditional culture, while also emphasizing a sense of futility in the face of the island’s urbanization.
Six years ago, Ox Warehouse founder Frank Lei held the first Hengqin-themed exhibition around the concept of “the disappearing neighboring villages.” It was a theme returned to several years later and again in 2017.
This year, the exhibiting works are divided into two sections, with the larger part dedicated to new works, and around two-fifths of the available space allocated to returning exhibits.
In the exhibition’s preface, presented on a wall near the gallery’s entrance, organizers of the exhibition describe the progression of the island’s development as the transformation from a quaint village into a sprawling theme park.
“Farmland replaced by skyscrapers, the simple oyster island covered with wide avenues, the quaint village turned into a huge theme park […] and the original villagers now residing in a modern town with tall buildings,” it reads.
“Urbanization always comes with ecological and societal drawbacks,” warned the exhibition curator, Pal Lok. “Hengqin is only the tip of the iceberg in the sweeping trends of urbanization.”
The Times interviewed several of the participating artists in this third iteration of the exhibition and found a consensus on the cost of the development.
“From the last four years, I have observed that the development in Hengqin is rapid and irreversible, but the people in Hengqin have no choice at all. They [are forced] to accept and adapt,” said Tang Kuok Hou, who contributed several photographs this year.
Tang’s work highlights the contrast between modern Macau and the simpler lifestyles of people from non-urban communities. In one such photograph, the pristine buildings of the University of Macau are juxtaposed with gardeners at the site, who wear improvised cardboard boxes to provide shelter from the sun.
Another artist, Sun Yan, is using the collaboration at Ox Warehouse to exhibit around a dozen black and white pictures of residential life in Hengqin.
His photographs appear to be deliberately vague in their location, with no obvious architectural references to Hengqin. Those that illustrate apartment interiors could originate from many a traditional, Chinese home, while the nondescript skyscrapers he captures could be found in scores of cities across the mainland.
Sun said that the villagers hold mixed opinions about the sudden large-scale developments. On the one hand, they long for their former homes and communities, but they also share an excitement over their new environment and the steeply rising value of their brand-new apartments.
“Before the development, Hengqin and Macau were more like two worlds; one a commercial society with a highly developed economy, and the other an agricultural town with people who lived by fishing and farming,” Sun told the Times. “Two worlds that can see each other but […] have great differences in terms of social structure, humanity, lifestyle and values.”
However, since the modernization of the island, “countless landscapes, people, and memories have become unimportant. These changes [represent] the transformation of lifestyles and values.”
Meanwhile, Jack Wong, who like the other participating artists, favors the use of contrasts in his work, argues that the differences between the neighboring cities are ever-diminishing. He proposed that it is inevitable that “the development of Hengqin must connect with Macau.”
“The most surprising difference that I observed was that the two cities are getting closer and closer,” said the photographer. “[But] we all know that they have different governments, policies and cultures.”
Wong also warned that the development of Hengqin could prompt an identity crisis for the MSAR and suggested that local residents here ought to consider what is behind the urbanization.
“Is it an opportunity or a challenge for us?” he pondered. “What is the future role of Macau in the Pearl River Delta? We have to face these problems in our future.”
It is an unsettling question that resonates with the other artists too.
“I think that the differences and border [between Hengqin and Macau] will disappear in the future,” added Tang, concerned that Macau’s uniqueness is being preserved only in a few key aspects. This he cautioned, presents the risk that “someday we will be become a no-personality city.”
“Hengqin’s yesterday is, in fact, also Macau’s yesterday,” remarked Sun. “Will Macau’s today be the future of Hengqin?”
*with additional reporting by Julie Zhu
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