Canton Waters: On the fading geography of global connection

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這個攝影項目從珠三角的水網出發，觀察這片南方邊界如何在百年變局中與世界交會，又在快速發展的地理重構中逐漸退至視線之外。我試圖透過圖像追問：在全球化秩序動搖、地方愈來愈被現代化所改寫的今天，我們是否仍能從腳下的地理重新看見一段世界的歷史？

 

作為一個在廣東長大、又在異國生活多年的人，我發現我對這片水網地帶從未真正理解過。珠江三角洲對我而言曾是背景，是童年，也是大敘事下邊緣的南方。當我開始深入閱讀珠江歷史與河道變遷，尤其是關於清代前後廣州與澳門之間的水道系統，我突然意識到：這片區域，曾是中國與西方唯一合法接觸的路徑之一——它們並非邊緣，而是世界秩序在東方的切口，是全球歷史在地方中遺留的物證與座標。

 

我進行了大量文獻與圖像的搜集：清代航道圖、地方志、十九世紀傳教士留下的繪畫、現代城市地圖與衛星影像。我試圖將這些歷史線索與我自身的現實路徑重合，把今天的攝影實踐置入一條想像中的舊航線之中。從澳門出發，穿行內外河道，抵達廣州、虎門與伶仃洋，再繞行返回。

 

我使用中畫幅相機與無人機，穿行於這些古老航道與當代景觀之間。有時，我會幻想自己是一位古人進入當代，帶著一種陌生而敏銳的目光觀看這片地貌的變遷。這種想像支撐了我觀看的邏輯，也構成了我對圖像節奏的組織方式。我拍攝的是那些正在逐漸失去公共關注的空間：河道仍在使用，卻不再被人主動觀看；堤岸與塔影被城市更新所掩蓋，老渡口僅在地圖中留名，曾經的港口則退化為符號或碑記。我希望透過行動與凝視，使這些被現代化覆蓋的歷史再度參與當下的空間經驗，而不僅僅留在檔案書籍中。

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珠三角的地理本質即是一種「港口性」——位於陸地與海洋、內陸與外部之間，是交換、停留與過渡的空間形式，也是一種持續處於流動與碰撞之中的狀態。從葡萄牙人登陸澳門、十三行通商、鴉片戰爭、香港成為殖民地，到戰亂、工業興起與改革開放下的製造業前沿，珠三角始終是中國與世界相遇與衝突的第一現場。到了如今，中國極速城市化，加上地緣局勢緊張、出口貿易放緩與地方人口結構變化，令這一區域的開放性與角色變得更加複雜。

 

面對這片被多重歷史力量不斷重寫的地理，我希望能透過圖像，找出一種屬於當下的觀看節奏——不是陷於懷舊或鄉愁，而是一種能夠重新感知地方與世界複雜關係的方法，丈量地方性與世界性之間的距離。這種觀看並非用地方性去對抗全球化，而是試圖從地方的歷史與空間經驗出發，在後殖民時空中去理解中國現代化過程中的複雜結構以及與世界的聯繫。

 

如今，全球化的路徑正在退潮，越來越多的人選擇建起邊界、返回內部。在這樣的時代裡，我反而更加珍惜我的身份軌跡：離開家鄉不是出於逃離或尋求更好生活，而是出於對世界的長期好奇和追問。這種路徑也促使我回望我所來自的地方，不是為了確認歸屬，而是去理解我所成長的這片土地如何曾深深地嵌入世界歷史的結構之中。這些歷史殘影塑造了我的觀看方式，也讓我在拍攝中不斷探尋地方性與世界性之間的細微聯結。

 

This photographic project begins with the waterways of the Pearl River Delta, observing how this southern frontier of China has, over the past century, encountered and entangled with global forces—only to gradually retreat from visibility amid the spatial transformations of modern development. Through these images, I pose a question: as global orders shift and local geographies are increasingly reshaped by modernisation, can we still read a broader history from the ground beneath our feet?

 

Having grown up in Guangdong and lived abroad for many years, I came to realise that I had never truly understood this network of waterways. For me, the delta had long been a backdrop—part of my childhood, but also part of the overlooked southern periphery within national narratives. It was only through reading the history of the Pearl River, especially the changes in the water routes between Guangzhou and Macau during the Qing dynasty, that I came to a different realisation: this region was once China’s only legal point of contact with the West. It was not a margin, but a breach in the structure of world order—a place where global history left behind material traces embedded in the local landscape.

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I conducted extensive research—Qing-era navigation maps, local gazetteers, missionary drawings from the nineteenth century, modern city plans, and satellite images. I attempted to align these historical fragments with my own present-day path, placing the act of photographing along an imagined reverse route of earlier navigation—from Macau, through the inner and outer waterways, to Guangzhou, Humen, and the Lintin Sea, before circling back again.

 

Using a medium-format camera and drone, I moved between ancient waterways and contemporary landscapes. At times, I imagined myself as a traveller from the past, arriving in a future I could not recognise—looking at the terrain with a gaze that was both unfamiliar and alert. This fiction helped shape the way I saw, and the rhythm with which I organised my images. I photographed spaces that are still present yet no longer actively seen: rivers that remain in use, but largely unobserved; pagodas now concealed by urban construction; ferry ports remembered only by name; and harbours reduced to monuments or markers. Through movement and observation, I hope to reactivate a layer of history buried beneath the surface of modernisation—not to retrieve it as memory, but to let it re-enter the lived space of the present.

 

The geography of the Pearl River Delta is, at its core, shaped by a kind of “port condition”—a state of being situated between land and sea, interior and exterior, passage and pause. It is a zone of exchange and transition, and one where movement is constant, but never without friction. From the arrival of the Portuguese in Macau and the Canton trade system, to the Opium Wars, the colonisation of Hong Kong, wartime upheaval, industrial expansion, and the rise of export-led manufacturing in the reform era, the delta has long been the frontline of China’s contact—and conflict—with the world. Today, rapid urbanisation, geopolitical tension, trade slowdowns, and demographic shifts have further complicated its openness and its global role.

 

Faced with a geography rewritten by overlapping historical forces, I hope to develop, through photography, a rhythm of seeing that belongs to the present—not rooted in nostalgia or sentiment, but in a renewed sensitivity to the shifting relationship between place and the world. This way of seeing does not aim to oppose globalisation through localism, but rather seeks to understand China’s path to modernity through the layered spatial histories of its own localities, especially as they have been shaped by postcolonial entanglements and global currents.

 

Now, as the pathways of globalisation begin to recede and more people turn inward or build new borders, I have come to value my own trajectory differently. I did not leave home to escape, nor to seek a better life, but out of a long-term curiosity about the world. That same impulse now draws me back—not to confirm a sense of belonging, but to understand how the place I come from has long been embedded in the structures of world history. The traces of that history shape the way I see, and through these images, I continue to search for the subtle and unresolved connections between locality and globality.