Open Call

Victoria

In addition to the spiritual and symbolic meanings, how does the essence of the ‘memorial statue’ evolve over time? In early 20th century British-ruled Hong Kong, colonialism manifested itself through the proliferation of public statues. After going through the Second World War, and the social movements of the 1950s to the 1980s, and finally the Handover in 1997, these statues have gradually become reminders of the colonial era for the proletariat. When the statue is placed in a public space as an ideological manifesto, what sorts of social discourse develop relating to the intertwining relationships between ‘the object’ and ‘the people’ in the space?

Flipping it over, in his story, these fragments that no longer can be pieced together to restore the Queen’s statue, are sent on The Relentless Voyage over the sea; their fate is unpredictable and their hope is inexorable, as they fall into an ever deeper sea of sorrow, as if at this particular moment those bronze statues are more than just a reflection of history.

This open call aims to collect photographs of the public with statues in Hong Kong and their surroundings (e.g. family or friends in front of the statues, from any angle and in any medium (film/digital)).

With the consent of the contributors, all materials collected by this open call will be used only in this online archives and non-profit public and educational programmes. Each submission will be clearly indexed with the creator, copyright owner, acknowledgement list, location, time, and type of licence (Creative Commons, authorised copyright, etc.). Thank you for kindly sharing your stories by emailing us at phantomarchives@gmail.com.

This open call is extended from the art project The Retrieval, Restoration and Predicament (2018-2020).

The Narrow Road to the Deep Sea

Between 1942 and 1945, Hong Kong was occupied by the Japanese. For the sake of saving social resources and population control, the Japanese Occupation Governor ‘repatriated’ many local residents and immigrants from China to the Mainland through compulsory and semi-voluntary means, which was known as the ‘Homecoming Policy’. Tens of thousands of war refugees arrived in Canton (now Guangzhou) and were medically quarantined and detained at the Nanshitou Refugee Camp in the southern suburbs of Canton City, where they were forced to undergo a series of live bacteriological experiments.

During the project, I interviewed a 93-year-old lady who had experienced the refugee camp, the end of World War II, the Chinese civil war, New China, the Communist era, etc. I put her and her interview into the work that was shown in the outdoor screening: The Narrow Road to the Deep Sea, Part V: The Remains of the Night (2020). During the interview and conversation with the woman, she repeated that what had been engraved in her mind was not the misery of the war and the ease with which people could control their fate, but the fact that for the next 80 years after the war, while remaining unruffled having experienced so many ups and downs, the social welfare system was what could comfort her heart. That is her reality, existing outside of the numbers and causes and consequences recorded in the archives. ( Lee Kai Chung, It means I won’t be back, A research project on ‘Sea’ and ‘Diaspora’ (Excerpt), 2020)

This open call aims to collect life stories (experience at the camp and lives after the war) of Hong Kong refugees (their relatives/second or third generation) who were imprisoned at Nanshitou Refugee Camp during WWII. With the consent of the contributors, all materials collected by this open call will be used only in this online archives and non-profit public and educational programmes. Each submission will be clearly indexed with the creator, copyright owner, acknowledgement list, location, time, and type of licence (Creative Commons, authorised copyright, etc.). Thank you for kindly sharing your stories by emailing us at phantomarchives@gmail.com.

This open call is extended from the art project The Narrow of the Deep Sea (2019-2020).

Green-skinned Train Small Talks

We booked too late to get two consecutive seats, and we became silent travellers on the green-skinned train. The passengers sitting next to us, who first met each other, were chatting away. The hard seats in the compartment are wrapped in sky-blue velvet, which absorbed dust, dander, skin oil and sweat over the years, a strong human odour filled the whole compartment. Every half hour, a few passengers met at the end of the compartment, opened the train windows and took a 10-minute cigarette break. Memory hit back, I was once again the kid taking the train back to my hometown, spending hours engulfed by that smell, relieved by a sense of security amid the anxiety. No matter how long the journey took, passengers on the train could always make new friends in the course of conversation, or be surprised to find that they have mutual acquaintances, meanwhile not excluding us who have no idea how to join the conversation. It was a small world carried in a train compartment, where new relationships were always brewing in the slow journey.

He said, ‘I went to Manzhouli to build the railway, we know nothing about the technology, the technical work is done by the technicians from the south of the Yangtze River. We were only manual labour. There are many tourists at the border and goods are expensive, five yuan for a big bun, a meal of one cannot be enough for me.

She said, ‘Mama Mia, what a coincidence! I’d been a taxi driver in Manzhouli for 20 years. The world has changed, so I came home to chill out.’

He said, ‘Don’t eat plain buns, I’ve got chilli, it’s super spicy, you want to take a bite?’

She said, ‘It’s so heavy – A full linen sack of fresh prunes and melons. I’m going to pick mushroom in a few days. Not well grown yet, a couple of days to go.’

She said, ‘My seventh cousin-in-law is boarding this train at the next stop, let me buy her a ticket.’

He said, ‘We’re entering the tunnel, the signal’s no good, no rush buying one.’

She said, ‘You should believe me, but you don’t listen, getting out at that station, otherwise, you’ll have to go over mountains.’

He said, ‘I led a team to repair the ancient tombs. I haven’t been to Huangpo for ten years, I forgot how to get there.’

He said, ‘That place is good, Huangpo’s renowned for its tobacco, other tobaccos are as nothing to compare.’

He said, ‘I work on this train every day. Can’t go back to my hometown because it is far away. Not familiar enough to find good tobacco. Can you bring me some next time you take this train?’

He said, ‘Comrade, where should I get off?’
Once the train arrived at the stop, she got off and left the linen sack by her seat. Another lady boarded the train, took that bag of fresh fruit and vegetables home.

Once the train arrived at the stop, she got off and left the linen sack by her seat. The other lady boarded the train, took that bag of fresh fruit and vegetables home.

The Phantom Archives is now having open call for visual material relating to life stories on the train, including but not limited to personal stories, photographs, memories, scenarios and fiction.

This open call is extended from the collaborative art project The Infinite Train (2020-).