Sai Wan, Sai Kung - during the day. Photos by Isaac Wong.

Raunig, Gerald, Factories of Knowledge (America: The MIT Press, 2013), The School of the Missing Teacher, 53

Between the 16th and the 19th of December 2015, 21 of us participated in a project called The Third Space (1) : Sai Wan Winter Camp. Of the 21 people, 12 were public participants from all backgrounds, ranging from 18 to 30 years old. The other eight people were three artists (including myself), four members of the Asia Art Archive Learning and Programming team and two writers–one of which was also trained in first aid. Following a series of screenings and a handful of meetings, the 21 of us went into the wild and endured the three coldest days of this year’s winter in Sai Wan Village, Sai Kung. On the chilly afternoon of the second day, participants Kiki, Dorothy and I took a moment to give Mr. Lai, the village chief, some seasonal seeds from our urban farming projects–Yau Ma Tei Gardener and HK Farm respectively. After sharing some of Sai Wan’s history with us, Mr. Lai kindly took us to the locations of three shrines, unfortunately now all reduced to rubble. Cold but in warm spirits and by the sea, Mr. Lai proceeded to tell us a story that his granddad told him when he was a young boy. I would like to share this story with you. Many years ago Sai Wan Village was a thriving fishing village, home to around 50 people, many of which were in the fishing and salted fish industry. Every morning the sound made from blowing into a conch shell horn would prompt everyone in the village to gather at the beach and help pull in the daily catch. Sai Wan Village had a unique way of catching fish. A wide floating net spanning the length of the beach would be taken out to sea, and with the collective effort of everyone in the village, young and old alike, the four corners of the long hand weaved net would be pulled in, sometimes momentarily pulled back out by the ebb current and some of the stronger mackerel tuna desperate to escape. One early morning, a dozen vigilantes rowed to Ham Tin Wan Village, the nearby village, and violently ransacked numerous villagers’ homes. Armed with daggers, no conscience and their morning loot, they appeared over the hill that overlooks the whole of Sai Wan Village, planning their next criminal act. With binoculars, one thief honed into their next target, the thirty odd village houses that populated Sai Wan Village. The thief studied the villagers’ patterns and noticed people separating the morning’s catch into large wicker baskets. Through his binoculars he could see the iridescent shine of the fresh Chinese mackerel dancing in the baskets, the reflection of the sun causing him to blink. His binoculars shifted and then focused on the beach and the numerous heavy footprints pressed deeply into the sand. Turning around to the other eleven thieves, he whispered that this was a populated village with clearly a large population of men. He informed them that he could see thousands of footprints, and indeed there were many. What he did not know was that they were formed by the tug-of-war fishing method invented by Sai Wan Village. The weight of the fishnet made the impressions in the sand deeper and longer than those caused by an average-sized person. The thieves knew that they were outnumbered and decided to skip this village and instead opt for the path along Sheung Luk Stream, leading to other villages (now buried under the High Island Reservoir). Amazed by the four waterfalls they decided to take a break and had a nude swim in the second of the naturally formed ponds. Finishing the story Mr. Lai informed Kiki, Dorothy and I that this is one of many stories that has made Sai Wan Village the village it is today. He clearly enjoyed telling us his granddad’s story.  The next morning, Fiona, one of the participating artists in our camp, took us on an unforgettable soundwalk that coincidently followed the path of the thieves in Mr. Lai’s story. Looking down from the top of the hill, I imagined what over 1,000 footprints might have looked like through binoculars. Walking back to the village from Sheung Luk Stream, Fiona led us towards the coastline, where we walked on the smooth and untouched beach. We paused and looked out to the sea and neighbouring islands. I recalled Mr. Lai’s story before looking back to see that collectively we created our own 1,000 footprints many many years later. Michael Leung Written on the minibus back from Sai Kung, 18th December 2015 Photograph by Wisaack Wong

Work in progress list here. Additions welcome. Photo: Launaea Sarmentosa (匍莖栓果菊, 蔓栓果菊), Sai Wan, 2013 Michael Leung Yau Ma Tei, 17th November 2015

Recording on 15/11/2015 3:15pm @ Sai Wan Waterfall by Roland binaural microphone 剛剛到達四疊潭時，魯先生乘直升機回來了。 第一次與距離只有30米左右的直升機下（正正頭頂之上）錄音，看著它力抗強風之下搖晃不定。驚心動魄....... Post by Fiona

Objects found on the beach: Less luggage for camping.

Chloe Ting Written at Asia Art Archive, 9th November 2015

Written outside the Airport Express check-in counter at Hong Kong Station, 3rd November 2015

A chance encounter with the founders of an art space in May 2012, led me spend a week at their permaculture farm in Panyu, Guangzhou District, in July 2015. The memorable week included dinner with eccentric beekeepers, a 3:30am okra harvest and camping in a space that bridged the place’s office/shop with an Olafur Eliasson exhibition. On my last day in Panyu, Box, the art space’s farmer/shop manager, kindly took me to the opening of 蔡明亮 Tsai Ming-liang’s first solo exhibition in China at the Times Museum, where I attended a talk by the director and saw fragments of the film and the iconic charcoal mural. Unfortunately due to my scheduled train back to Hong Kong I was unable to watch the whole film. The next month I eagerly returned and watched the whole film. Perhaps I am at a particular age, or have reached a “film maturity” where I find myself connecting to films on a very personal level. Stray Dogs left a lasting impression on me. Set in Taipei, its themes resonate with Hong Kong’s current social and economic context and relate to two tangible experiences in the past year–my farming collaboration with Mango King and my former student’s project with Vietnamese street sleepers in Sham Shui Po. When we considered an appropriate venue for the film we asked ourselves a series of questions. What would be a suitable third space to screen such a film? What challenges would we face when selecting a less accessible public space? How have people’s attitudes towards public screenings changed since last year’s occupation and the recent under-the-bridge screenings of Hong Kong’s World Cup qualifier matches? Following considerable efforts in getting the rights to screen this film (thank you Chloe), if we were requested to prematurely end a public screening, what would we do? We decided on a very unique place–a third space in its purest sense, a heterotopia. 18 Pitt Street is an experimental community space rooted in Yau Ma Tei. As a critique of the institution, proposal and grant bureaucracy, gentrification and capitalism, 18 Pitt Street is community-supported with unconditional funding, and a place to pause and reflect on one’s relationship to community and reestablish social bonds. Please join our second screening to see how you, as an individual, relate to the film and the special venue and neighbourhood that we have selected. Michael Leung Yau Ma Tei, 1st November 2015

Chloe Ting Written at Asia Art Archive, 30th October 2015

In this sound clip, we can notice the space by listening the conversation with the farmer which in echoes at the beginning of the clip . I guess the distant in between the farmer and ourself would be more then 30m.  Later on, the dogs ran in front of me and keep barking suddenly.I just kept acting calm when they are barking.The farmer figured out the wild shield of my recorder looked like some doggy. Then I put back my recorder into my backpack . I didn't stop recordings and my heart beat is recorded by this accident. The sound of my heart beat in fast pulsing rate, which reveal I was not calm as well .  For me, it is an interesting recording documented the unforgettable moment of the day, but also the emotion of inner self and the space of outer world.  Fiona Lee Written at Home,  Kowloon Bay, 30th October 2015

This stream is located along the main entrance walking path in Saiwan.In the Weekends, there are so many people walked on the path . I was surprised that the sound of footsteps vibrate the water in the stream in high volume. When I was listening to those sound of footsteps, I felt like being in some construction site. Fiona Lee Written at Home ,Kowloon Bay, 30th October 2015

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854 The first time that I watched this film must have been around 2007, when I was living in London. In London, my friend Anh and I would often go to the cinema every month; we must’ve visited every cinema in the W1 postcode (central London). We watched this film in the Curzon Soho or The Prince Charles Cinema. I can’t remember. In 2009, we decided to resign from both of our full time jobs and go on, what Jack Kerouac might call, a “rucksack revolution.” Each with a backpack we spent the next month and a half on trains and countries between London and Moscow, before (cheatingly) flying to India and exploring the country via its enlightening railway system. In August 2009, we arrived in Hong Kong. Six years later, the same rucksack is in my studio home, and I am excited to use it again for this project. Before our winter camp, Asia Art Archive and I decided to have some pre-camp activities, two of which focus on film. At our first meeting, I suggested that we watch the same film that I watched with Anh before moving to Hong Kong, Into the Wild, directed by Sean Penn. Into the Wild is based on a true story about Christopher McCandless, a graduate who liberates himself from middle class urban life, abandons all his possessions and donates his life savings to charity, before embarking on a physical and spiritual journey where he meets people who will shape his life. Equipped with a rucksack and books by Kerouac, London and Thoreau, he experiences the challenges that come with being disconnected and living in wilderness. In relation to Hong Kong, the film confronts the pressures graduates may face from their parents, the affects of consumerism and capitalism on society and one’s access to the commons–a hot topic in Hong Kong with regards to highly-governed or privately-owned public space, farming politics in the North East New Territories and the recent lead-tainted water issue (currently unresolved). We are pleased to present Into the Wild at two universities, to share the values embedded in the film and recruit the first band of participants for the coming winter camp. Michael Leung Shanghai Street Studios, 28th October 2015

Photo credit: HK Salt

Photo credit: Asia Art Archive, Foward’95

Sai Wan Village, 20th October 2015