From airport to airport, cruising over the continent. Spending more time in airports than in airplanes. Enjoying life inside Aviopolis, the name of a book which is the result of a collaboration between Australian theorist Gillian Fuller and artist Ross Rudesch Harley. Gillian Fuller is also the author of the essay Life in Transit: between airport and camp:
The airport not only transforms a body on the ground into a body in the air, but it also involves the incorporeal transformation of the travelling body — as a citizen, a passenger (pax), a baggage allowance, an accused or an innocent. The airport constitutes a space where a series of contractual declarations (I am Australian, I have nothing to declare, I packed these bags myself) accumulate into a password where I am free to deterritorialise on a literal level — I take flight, but not without a ‘cost’. I have been scanned, checked and made to feel guilty. I could be a body containing wrong bodies (a smuggler), a body that could explode (a ‘terrorist’), or I could be a body with no rights (an ‘illegal alien’). As Bukatman might say, ‘the subject has been propelled into the machine’ (1993: 17). I’m not sure I’d evoke the relation in such transitive terms, but one thing is quite sure: ‘the subject’ is definitely in trouble at the airport.
Staying away from the terror of transit, following rules and regulations, registering luggage, scanning bodies, buying the newspaper in three different languages. And on the plane some attempts in amateur aerography.
Pictures by Bert de Muynck | movingcities.org