China is a private party in an immense members’ club that only admits those who could endure all the pressures and have managed to correctly understand the revolutionary commandments, combining them like the greatest chefs. Nitrates and foams of ideals deliciously plated for the consumption of a select few. From the top of their ivory, steel and glass tower, they watch the (rising) sun set and get goosebumps from a palette of oranges that have no smell.

Down below, waiting in the long line to enter the club and hearing the disco music in the background distorted by the reinforced doors and the shouting of the security guards, are the people who lead identical normal humdrum lives. 1,300 million people who know there is a party but are still waiting and giving their all, as the revolution requires.

Cristina de Middel