Hyde Park, near Speaker’s Corner, September 2010.

London.

It was a fairly quiet affair. While the hacks reported a 80,000 turn out, I didn’t think there were quite so many. If there were, then perhaps many were behind the fences as the ticketed event excluded many of the faithful. The uniformed policemen had little to do, aside from chatting up the girls.

Of course, I was there more as a vulture to document those who didn’t buy a ticket to see the Pope, but showed up anyway. There was an instance where an elderly couple stood there, waiting as we all did for what seemed like hours till the sun went down, before the Pope-mobile finally made its way down to Hyde Park. She asked if I was Catholic. I said no, and she said she wasn’t neither. But her husband was, he was ‘disappointed’ with the Church, hence the long faces.

There were some oddities with a ticketed event, for a vigil, that I assumed was meant to reach the masses. It was run like a rock concert, tall green borders separated the rest of fawning masses from those who paid to see the man himself. On one instance, a little old lady – on crutches no less – hurried to a slit between where two green walls met, and peered into it, hoping to catch a glimpse of the leader of her faith.

I’d like to think the excluded are those who are most faithful, they sang praise and worship songs to a green wall, as they could only hear but a murmur from the exceptionally muted speakers with which the Pope’s voice could hardly be heard.

A portrait of faithful Britain ?

I was in transit at Changi Airport for a day, spending the night at the transit hotel. In Asia, there is generally less fuss about cameras in public spaces (if Airports are indeed public). On the other hand, Singapore is generally tourist friendly. I flew with the massive A380s, on the upper deck, throughout the flight, passengers were wanting to grab a shot of this historic engineering feat. I had my camera firmly round my neck for the entire leg of the journey, and nervously wanting to make a photo essay of this from the very beginning. While in transit, the airport seemed a microcosm of life, a bubble that exists within its own set of rules, and observing life inside, felt abit like being in another country all together. I was sight seeing I suppose. It starts at the departure lounge at Heathrow, and ends at the departure lounge at Changi.

I’m a huge fan of The Americans, it is my favourite photo book of all time. I think of it as the classic paper movie and Robert Frank’s cinematic style is a massive influence on my work. I only wish I could capture a little bit of Robert Frank’s magic, but the man has an eye for not only a personal moment, but also a skill in creating atmosphere when he makes the viewer see his photographs in the sequence he had intended. I had been to Taipei once before in 2009, and the lasting impression the metal metropolis had on me, was its effervescent bustle. The city was bursting at the seams with motion, people, chatter and streetfood. A pumping jive which was electrifying just to watch the stories unfold before my eyes.

I didn’t photograph much during that time, but the memory of the visit loomed in my memory. I had promised myself that if I return to the city, I would try my best to capture the streets on film. I revisited the city in February 2010, returning in the middle of its winter and saw the dawn of the new lunar year – the Tiger year. Winter meant three days and three nights of rain, but it did not stop me from losing myself in the side streets and the underbelly of the urban jungle and being a spectator of the side stories. I wanted to capture the city’s essence, it’s pumping jive, the crass clash of the new metal and glass buildings building on top of the old shop houses. The city’s neon lit night, the blissful locals breathing soul into the city and all this life happening all around.

Presenting my Taipei Street Stories. A digital paper movie, told from the streets of Taipei.

58 photographs.

Under construction, the new building on the old.

Street food seller opening for breakfast.

Three days of rain, all the umbrellas are out.

Fireworks. First day of work, in the new year of the Tiger.

On the way to the bank, Monday morning.

Breakfast time.

The owner of a Beef noodle soup gesturing while watching TV.

Selling coats on the walkway.

Women inside a street market.

Shoppers making their way into the street market.

Flogging clothes on a pedestal.

Clutching a shopping receipt. All receipts also double as a national lottery ticket.

Burberry scarf, lottery ticket seller.

The rain has stopped, but the umbrella now sheilds from UV rays.

Post, green is local; red is international.

A couple on a vespa on a date.

Fish by the sea.

Fishermen bbq sausages while fishing by the sea.

A couple on a date, one of their hang out spots.

Kids playing on the beach.

Sunday afternoon.

A street fiddler.

Watching Taipei.

Two men and a dog.

Enticed by the street food.

Enticed by the street toys.

Husband and wife.

A street artist with a customer.

Praying with posters.

Waiting for the bus.

Artist in transit on the MRT.

A cluster of vespas.

The cluster on the move.

Crossing the road.

Watermelon umbrella.

Husband and wife, much later.

Watching the city go by.

The year of the Tiger, shop window.

Day turns to night, ximending.

Collecting for charity.

Friends.

Kevin’s Tattoo.

Waiting for takeaway at Hi Sushi.

Visiting the bookstore.

Totally engrossed.

An angel promoting her store.

Red Lanterns outside of SOGO, department store.

Mother and daughter at night.

The city lights, after dark.

A couple speeding, probably  away on a date.

Inside seven eleven, shopping dog.

The house cat, cleaning.

Riding the MRT one last time.

Four types of city transport.

Bicycles, all chained and unused.

Old guys playing chess at the park.

Old guy falling asleep at the park.

Cleaning up, closing up.