Megacities

• Ella Howells

Ten columns of text about ten photographers are jammed into a grin at the mouth of a room enveloped with dark carpet. These dental veneers of illustrious self-made third-person bios and black and white headshots precede any glimpse of the fruits of the labour they discuss. As visitors step further into the room, the carpet absorbs any incidental light and sound. The sensory deprivation disembodies visitors against the incoming tide of images that simulate the overwhelmingness of the proverbial Megacity.

The city-slash-room layout possesses its own hostile architecture. The limited seating is invisible, and wherever one stands within the hanging maze of perpendicular screens, they’re blocking someone else’s view. Trying to duck and weave induces claustrophobia, leading people to pool in the corners.