Finding new uses for old spaces

In the West, after artists move into impoverished neighborhoods to set up studios, gentrification often follows. It happened in Montmartre in the 1880s and New York in the 1980s. But in Taipei, two former Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) villages have been saved from destruction for urban development and now exist for the benefit of artists and the local community at large.

At the foot of Taipei 101 lies 44 South Village (四四南村), a KMT military settlement built between 1947 and 1949. The long one-story concrete row houses were deemed an eyesore by many and a reminder of a controversial past. Many of these villages (Taipei once had 186) have been bulldozed for urban development. However, two of these villages have been preserved for cultural activities by the Taipei City Cultural Department. Now the pride of the local Xinyi district government, 44 South Village has been renovated and is now a beautiful exhibition space. Its previous tenants have been relocated to nearby housing. It is here that visiting artist Paul Sermon debuts his technical interactive piece titled Headroom which he felt suited the site's paradoxical nature.

Based in Manchester, England, Sermon first came to Taiwan last year as a participating artist for the 25 years of Ars Electronica award-winning work exhibited at the National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts, Taichung in which he showed his Telematic Dreaming 05, a 1991 Golden Nica prize winner. Impressed by Taiwan, he returned this February as a resident of the Taipei Artist Village.

For Headroom, Sermon continues his exploration of how technology can connect us and create intimate spaces while also distorting our experience of physical and emotional space. In this interactive work, one person enters a small furnished room which has a wooden box built directly under the ceiling forcing one to stoop. However, the few drilled holes allow you to put your head and hands into the upper space. A person in another room does the same. Then suddenly both profiles are projected onto a screen, which creates a shocking and sudden intimacy. Even though you are not in the same physical space with the other person, you are in the same virtual space. With the aid of video cameras projecting both profiles on the screens, you are able to virtually touch, whisper to and kiss your partner. The experience is phenomenal as you really forget about your own physical body and instead focus on the body language and facial gestures of yourself and your cyber partner.

In contrast to the pristine 44 South Village, the funky Treasure Hill is an experimental site that brings artists, architects and environmentalists to live and work within a community of residents in an area of favela-type housing. Overlooking the Danshui River, near the National Taiwan University, the ramshackle houses became a permanent home for about 200 families and at one point in the 1990s it was slated to be torn down to make a park, but after the community protested the site was earmarked for collective living and farming. In six months, the site will temporarily be shut for renovations, but for now it is a hubbub of activity and home to artist Yeh Wei-li (葉徫立) who has been photographing the long-term residents during his two-year residency.

Mina Chin (覃敏怡) the owner of Treasure Hive (the small shop serving drinks and functioning as, well, a hive of activity) said all walks of life blend together for a lively and happy situation: "There's a sense of strong community and sharing among the elderly, the extreme sports enthusiasts, the artists and the university professors. I even give computer lessons to some of the elderly men who live here."