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Street theatre and the production of postindustrial space
It is 2015, and I am standing in a garden. I approach the metal plant with caution. Its roots and vines, a dense thicket of pipes, curve and curl across 12 square metres of grass. Scrap metal flowers, larger than human heads, their petals open, rise above the elegant arabesque (see figure 5 .1). Stepping towards the structure I trigger its self-defence mechanism: a kind of sonic warfare. The quiet of the garden is broken by a low hum, insect-like, but unmistakeably electronic. I draw nearer,doi:10.7765/9781526147288.00010 fatcat:exe3habjmratjdrshqj7uxneay