Transcript: Pak Sheung Chuen interview
Pak Sheung Chuen: Measuring Time
PAK SHEUNG CHUEN: Wandering around the city is like writing poems. When I walk past certain places, I might see a scene and capture it. It’s like finding beautiful words in a poem that can describe the scene. But my work is not poetry. My work is created through intervention, so my actions are like lines in a poem.
Every day I choose a grid on the map and wander around. When I arrived here at Tonkin Street, it was almost night time. When I looked up, I found this building to be an object of its own, standing out. I found myself having a connection to it. The whole thing seems like just one single object when you look at it, but every light represents a household. It was like I was interacting with one family at a time, using lights as signals. When they felt sleepy and wanted to turn in, they flipped the switch and the light went off and they went to sleep. The lights connected me with the daily routines of a group of people.
While I was waiting, a romantic idea came to me, which was to stay up with this group of people until they slowly went to bed. I kept waiting with a kind of anticipation. I’d only leave after everyone had gone to sleep. The interesting thing was that there was one last household; one person who did not turn off the light in their flat. So, in the end, this notion of ‘one’ appeared, and it reflected me, waiting alone on the street. It was a one-on-one situation.
One day, I was in the Kowloon Tong MTR Station. An idea popped into my mind. If I kept waiting here, how long would it take for me to bump into a friend? I started standing here to give it a try. Finally, after around four hours, I bumped into a friend I had spent three years with during university but hadn’t seen for the last two years, after we graduated. We were pretty close back then. His name is Jacky. We took a picture together.
You can imagine the situation when I was waiting. I really had nothing to do during that whole day. I had to set some conditions for myself so that I would find the time I spent meaningful, but I’m still not sure how much of that time actually was meaningful. It felt like I had fulfilled a mission, and the mission offered me meaning. I’d describe it as such: through constant creation, my works are like markings along the timeline of my life. But when a work is finished, it becomes something else. Ten years on, this work has become an important foundation upon which my friend and I developed our friendship. I have built on this foundation to press ahead with my creations.