Have you heard about the Uighurs?
They’re people, of Muslim descent, who are getting royally screwed in China these days.
According to reports, as many as 1 million Uighurs are locked up in re-education camps, in Western China, where they’re forced to eat pork and renounce their God.
Seriously, as far as dark humor goes, when I was discussing the Uighur situation with friends in London, I joked that at least they weren’t getting discriminated against, really.
China will re-educate anybody!
(And of course I’m joking.)
The story got a bit of press last month, as I recall reading an editorial or two about the situation. In one article, (maybe in the Guardian?) it mentioned they were using surveillance tech, and digital tracking, to follow people by their routine.
Meaning, any deviation from your normal physical travel route, or usual digital activity, and they would have reason to be suspicious of you.
While Sartre suggested that Hell is other people, the Chinese are using tech to turn your regular routine into a form of prison, if not outright torture.
Welcome to 2019!
(Cue the creepy music. Maybe low-tone piano, with a lumbering pace?)
I’m thinking of this today, having just put down “42nd and Vanderbilt,” a superb book by Peter Funch, which came in last year from TBW Books. (But was published in 2017.)
I told you guys that in the midst of a crazy summer, filled with travel and adventure, there might come a time when I’d lean back on a book review, just to catch my breath.
To create an interval, of even a week, in which I can let my experiences settle into memories, and then decide which ones are worth sharing. (Because everything feels intense and fraught with meaning, when you’re on the road and in the moment.)
So a few minutes ago, I was on the floor stretching, when this book caught my eye on the shelf, still wrapped in plastic. Paul Schiek, a friend of the column, and publisher of TBW Books in Oakland, has been kind to send books over the years, and I haven’t had the chance to review them all.
This one, apparently, was shelved without being perused.
We’ll rectify the indignity today though, while also highlighting an amazing project that I’m glad to know about.
I mentioned previously that I’m coming out with my first book this year, and just wrote a statement about how I’m always going on about context, when I write for you.
What do you need to know to understand a book?
Well, this one cuts to the heart of it like the evil dude in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. (Sorry for conjuring that visual.)
The book opens with a short statement: “Between 8:30 am and 9:30 am, from 2007 to 2016, at the southern corner of 42nd St and Vanderbilt Avenue in New York City.”
In other words, you don’t need to know anything more than that.
When I first hear 42nd St, I think Times Square.
All the tourist hustle.
But immediately, it becomes clear this is not a story about tourists. Given that I wrote last month about NYC becoming a global city for outsiders, this book presents a series of images that is as old school as it gets.
Shit, it makes me think of Old New York in the best possible way.
Because right away, you notice that people are repeating. With ever so slight differences.
Wind in the hair.
These people are on their morning commute!
I love it.
New York City is famous for a grid, and the Avenues along 42nd Street are numbered.
I thought about it for a minute or two, and though it should have been obvious, it was not. So finally I opened up Apple Maps. (I’ve been breaking my no-research rule more often lately.)
Of course, Vanderbilt runs alongside Grand Central Station!
Not only are these people commuters, they might not even be New Yorkers. Because the photographer brilliantly stationed himself right next to the biggest transport hub in the city.
(I didn’t know Vanderbilt, because as a Jersey Boy, I’ve always used Penn Station. The trains from NJ don’t go to Grand Central.)
These pictures are so damn good.
The book is like Where’s Waldo mixed with William Christenberry, with a touch of Paul Graham thrown in for good measure.
And perfect for an early summer’s day.
I wonder if the streets of New York smell like garbage yet?
Bottom Line: Amazing, conceptual NYC street portraits that play with time