loss
R E S E A R C H B O O K L E T UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE Independent Thesis Zheng Wu 846736 Tutor: Marijke Davey
thesis statement We build, we fall, we reconstruct… If the game were over today, we would all be losers… This thesis perceives ‘loss’ as an invitation to response, especially in the context of Beirut, Lebanon, which has accumulated various forms of loss throughout her history. As traumatised by a dreadful blast in August 2020, the joy of a ‘normal’ life became a distant dream, a dash of evaporating memory in a massive phantom of nightmare. This thesis questions: what is loss, how should we react better, and what do we get from it? Using poetry and painting as the main method of research, this thesis will speculate ways to manifest loss into space, and seek for a critical position or commentary towards the issues of loss in 4 conceptual artefacts, namely:
Museum of Exile A Voyage to Nothing Ministry of Reconstruction Tales by the Port
The city of Beirut heavily depends on the port for imported necessities, so it is crucial to re-establish a healthy port-city relationship. This thesis will propose a new Beirut port masterplan to reclaim public space for the city, to relink the creative industry and to bring the dead port into life. An emergency coordination department was absent in the former port system. To ensure a safe, creative, and commemorated port, this thesis will design a House of Loss for people who dance with fire.
prelude
Google’s translation into Chinese:
Correction:
What is loss?
什么是损失？
什么是失？
A broken seat. An unreachable home. An erased frame. An eternal bye. Someone you miss afar, stopped replying your text. Something you held firmly got shattered or stolen, so do bits of your self.
一个破座位。 一个遥不可及的家。 已删除的帧。 永恒的再见。 远方想念的人， 停止回复你的短信。 你牢牢抓住的东西 被打碎或被盗， 你的自我也是如此。
一个破座位。 遥不可及的家。 已删除的一帧。 永恒的拜。 远方想念的人， 停止回复你的短信。 牢牢攥住的东西 被击碎或偷窃， 你的自我也是如此。
Losses pile up at your feet and behind the space you see. So tall, it starts crumpling to swallow you with a throttle to make you react.
损失堆积如山 在你的脚下 在你看到的空间后面。 这么高， 它开始皱巴巴的 用油门吞下你 让你 反应。
失积如山 在你的脚下 在你所见空间之后。 这么高， 它开始塌陷 吞噬你扼制你的喉 迫使你 反应。
It exists before you know. It departs, but never left you. Rather you receive it, although unacceptably painful.
它存在 在你知道之前。 它出发， 但从未离开过你。 而是你收到它， 虽然痛得无法接受。
它存在 于你知道之前。 它出发， 但未曾离开过你。 而是你收到它， 虽然痛得无法接受。
世界变得越来越轻，越来越轻 失重。 下雨了 在越来越浓的寂静中。 像我一样漂浮 听不到更多的声音， 什么都想不起来了。 盯着镜子里一张陌生的脸， 我一无所有， 我感觉到我心中的一切， 活。
世界变得越来越轻，越来越轻 失重。 雨落在 愈渐浓烈的寂静中。 我漂着 再也听不到一切声音， 再也想不起一切。 盯着镜子里一张陌生的脸， 我手中一无所有， 我心中感到一切， 活着。
The world is getting lighter, and lighter weightless. Rain falls in the thickening silence. Floating as I can’t hear any more sounds, can’t recall anything. Staring at a strange face in a mirror, I have nothing in my grip, I feel everything in my heart, alive.