'LEFTOVERS' IN THE CITY
‘I would like to think that in the future the profession of landscape architecture will expand. This would mean knowing a great deal about land, its uses, its values, and the political and economic and cultural forces affecting its distribution. It is finally a matter of defining landscape in a way that includes both the mobility of the vernacular and the political infrastructure of a stable social order. We derive our identity from our relationship with other people, and when we talk about the importance of place, the necessity of belonging to a place, let us be clear that in Landscape Three place means the people in it, not simply the natural environment.’ ("Concluding with Landscapes - J.B. Jackson" 2008)
There are some odd spaces exist as a kind of conceptual art in the city. Those leftover spaces have no function and in a state of suspension. The city turns out a weird phenomenon that no
one starts to question their identity. The models unpack the
idea of 'the third landscape' and shape out the possibility
of the future of the space. Also they involve the
in-between relationship of
absence and presence,
past and present,
human and environment.
CITY BECOMES THE 'LEFTOVER'
Frozen food saves people from quarantine.
I barely remember the dimension behind this door...
How's aussie's life without gathering and alcohol?
It's my first time to see somebody's tears for eight rollsl of tissue paper...
Those products used to be left until expiry date...
When a functional facility turns into a mechanised artifect.
Where there is human. There is consumption.
Nothing can separate a group of friends except penalties.
I am surprised to have smelled the scent of coffee while I am looking through the window tidying up my hair.
Since there is no leftover food around, hunger increases bravery to approach human (with food).
We are no longer searching for a seat through this aisle behind that caution line.
The tram continues heading south even though it has no one inside.
All I want is extremely hot and fresh chicken, not a box of cold ones...
A hidden bike parking lane is still dead.
This tram stop looks as if someone attaches a smoke-free sign.
This mirror is no longer reflecting the trace left by the pedestrians within the city... Expect a tram passing by occasionally.
Finally they can rest after spinning for ages...
Although it turns into a piece of silence, their step and movement plays automatically in my brain.
Space doesn't form spatial gesture unless people interact with or within it.