TEMPLE 02'30"

This work 'Temple', it happened in summer 2010, I came back my hometown-Hohhot of Inner Mongolia from Amsterdam for summer holiday. The city had changed rapidly, I felt foreign once more.
It was one o’clock in night. With my friends I was searching for a place to eat. Came across a popular barbecue area. The building was architecturally miserable. It smelt of frying oil and coal-fired mutton; the tables were dotted with islands of dried ketchup and seasoning from the meals of leaving guests; the lighting was unforgiving, bringing out pallor and blemishes; And the chairs painted in childishly bright colors, had the strained jollity of a fake smile. I heard this building would be going to remove after two weeks (During the city development, all the old houses would disappear in my hometown soon).
I noticed a man was standing near the door and cooking the barbecue; sweat poured down his face, the gust of wind was blowing the smoke into his eyes, he was a bit cough, Sometimes the risen fire almost touch his face. But he has to continue all night, night by night... Yet something about the scene moved me. There was poetry in this cooking man. Or it is a picture of sadness – and yet it is not a sad picture. It has the power of a great melancholy piece of music. No one was talking, no one admitting to curiosity or fellow feeling. People gazed blankly past one another at the serving counter or out into the darkness. We might have been seated among rocks.
Its appeal made me think of certain other equally and unexpectedly images that had been touched me: the hands of a dustman, the mud on the face of a builder, the wrinkles on a vendor… and the work of a nineteenth-century philosopher on pessimism and a twentieth-century painter…(Wei Na, 2010)