Each one was laced onto tough fiber ropes, strong enough to hold a cruise ship to the dockside. Cartoon-sized knots strained against the pull. At the top, the prefabricated panels bumped together into a neat jigsaw, being guided by multiple hands, which were reaching in from all directions. Vast bolts with surfaces lightly rusted were tightened between the sections, with winged nuts twisted by one person per wing, hands flat against the galvanized steel. The joined panels depicted the pattern of a stone wall, with impressions of boulders mortared together with a muddy cement. The shell of each section traced the emboss of each boulder, pushing out into the cold like multiple stone bellies. The curvature of the wall formed a vast archway, leaning inwards against itself.
At the top of these walls were perched a series of wooden cranes, resembling a mutation of a bird and its bird box. From the end of their long wooden beaks, taught ropes began their descent. They both lifted the panels and lowered workers, harnessed together into cute bundles. The cranes’ arms stretched forward in latticed wooden triangles, with pulleys working back to large treadmills on either side of the units. Turning steadily, the shadows of large flat feet could be seen through the slats. The steady creak of timber flexing could be heard as the feet rhythmically pressed against the brittle wood.
Through the openings of the construction, a fleet of crows patrolled the surfaces in a low swoop. They came together in unison to pull off the protective peel from each ascending element, transporting them in their beaks to the refuge piles that were growing at the foot of the wall. As they flew, the peels rippled against the wind like gastric banners. Smaller birds clung to the edges and pecked away at the remaining peels, trapped between the panels. The many pecking beaks composed a plastic drumming. This avian fleet was responsible for the recycling onsite, and had been organized by the new municipality. Their wingtips were dipped in reflective paint, glinting in the sun as they changed direction.
Each section was being systematically hosed with a dense layer of sealant. It bubbled out of a ribbed fabric tube that was weaving through a spindling wooden scaffold. The scaffold formed the structure of ribs around the vast walls and was crowned with various portable antennas, from which yellow cables entangled their surroundings like vines. Whole tree trunks, skimmed of bark, held most of the uprights. Large black nails jutted out from every juncture, with fabrics caught from workers’ clothing making hundreds of soft flags, with threads in every color combination.
A patrol in thick rubber cloaks and protective goggles traversed the scaffold boards to perform the task, passing the tubing between the gaps. Climbing through a labyrinth of trap doors, they held herbal fabric over their mouths to block the noxious smells. This new liquid dried into a pockmarked layer, as air gathered and escaped the mix. The layer protected the panels from the infectious bacteria that had developed to feed on various plastics in recent years. It could easily pass between material to infest new constructions, such as this one. A full contagion would be a financial disaster for the administrators. To prevent this, the site-masters wore head torches with wide UV bulbs, which cast a purple glow over their furrowed faces. If any mold was discovered under these lamps, it would illuminate before their eyes in a fluorescent yellow blossom. Finding nothing but fresh claw marks, already scratching the pristine surface, they became agitated between themselves. Any mold sightings would be signaled by a loud metal whistle, which would interrupt the birds drumming for a few seconds, and wake any sleepy workers who had found a secluded spot within the scaffold.
At the foot of the wall, between the growing refuge mounds, loose roads were carved out along which processions of purple wagons moved in convoy. They drove past large vats of chicken soup, which were being stirred by long paddles. Smaller vats were bubbling with spiced apples. The culinary fumes billowed upwards from the tubs, leaving a sticky residue on all downward surfaces. Both the avian and mammalian workers descended on pulleys to refill their flasks at regular intervals. The amphibious population, harder to spot between all the motion, preferred to pick quietly along the floor. They would dig through in scattered pairs, and graze on the colorful trash.
(written to accompany Ernie Wang's work in the BPA Exhibition 2022 at KW, Berlin)