Terra Form Travels to Hong Kong Amidst Protests and a Crucial Election
By November 24th, 2019, the Special Autonomous Region of Hong Kong—a designation fraught with increasing tension–had long familiarized itself with the turmoil of protests. The mass movements to resist a bill that would permit extradition to Taiwan and Mainland China had galvanized support from all walks of Hong Kong life, yet had taken a dark turn. Just days before, students of Hong Kong Polytechnic Institute defended its campus from a siege by Hong Kong Police. Hundreds of minors became trapped in a bombardment from the well equipped law enforcement agency. Earlier the prior week the first live round was fired upon a protestor by a policeman, bursting his abdomen and sending him into an intensive care unit.
As I took Hong Kong’s efficient MTR into Kowloon, a foreboding calm hung over the city. It was clear that although months of unrest had taken their toll, an awkward if informal ceasefire had subdued belligerents on both sides of the movement in anticipation of the upcoming district elections. At first I felt worried that I had missed my moment, to set up a demonstratively peaceful art project, Terra Form, meant to provide a space away from the tension for anyone who needed a moment of respite. But, in fact, the lull in tensions quite very well could have set up ideal conditions for Terra Form to thrive.
Hong Kong bares many crucial similarities to New York, the city in which this project was born in and is genetically wired to; it is highly walkable, features public spaces with few restrictions to entry, and a cosmopolitan populace roams its streets. Their respective prosceniums are framed by the skyscraper. Maritime air in both cities lends a distinctive odor and raises the hair on the back of one’s neck, as though the wider world lies just beyond the horizon.
Fitting, then, that just as in New York I should find a streetside location conducive to the various spontaneous interactions that makes Terra Form come to life. On this occasion I chose the promenade at the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront, with Victoria Harbor and Hong Kong Island providing an imposing backdrop.
The day began slowly; two hours went by without a single person doing so much as offering a passing glance of mild confusion when they saw me and a blank canvas sitting on the floor of the promenade. This was despite my carefully written sign in both English and Cantonese. But unlike Washington Square Park, a public plaza known for its arts and busking culture, the TST waterfront finds itself more at the periphery of a commercial and international tourist district. The random pedestrian may less likely be inclined to find pop-up art on the street, not to mention something more conceptual that warrants their participation.
But, just as in New York, as soon as one person participated, almost immediately a small crowd of onlookers gathered and began to shyly betray their curiosity. As the day went on, no less than 24 people from Hong Kong, Mainland China, Philippines, Pakistan, Canada, the UK, and Australia participated in the project.
Terra Form is not political, but it is no stranger to finding itself in political contexts. In a sense, it embraces the idea that every decision we make can be traced to a political reality. And the work that was created on this particular canvas on this particular day in Hong Kong reflects a city exhaling a much needed cathartic sigh after months of political action realized in the form of paint and ink in ways both direct and not.
When polls closed by the end of the day, the sound of police sirens and protest chants were replaced with cheers from thousands of people on the streets, as pro-democracy parties collectively gained control of 17 of the city’s 18 constituencies. The city would, for however briefly, redeem a sense of dignity and strength in the face of the paranoid and contemptuous juggernaut that is authoritarianism.
Terra Form folded its canvas and slunk quietly onward.