Chris: I guess Interminal, which I read about in this month’s Edge, is kind of a joke, on one level. Boy, Airports go on forever! And so many perfume shops! You walk and you walk and you walk and the terminal never ends. Planes move around outside, the sunset sky gives everything a touch of the otherworld, of quiet radioactivity, and miles of perfume concessions pass by.
You can pick up perfumes and learn how they smell. You can buy them or put them back down. Mainly I just walk, though, and soon I forget that Interminal is kind of a joke about airports and enjoy it as its other element, this playful exploration of modern liminal spaces.
There is a magic to airports – the same kind of magic Will Self finds on the M25. These are our Stone Henges, our Avebury Rings, they just aren’t sufficiently old yet. There is a touch of the religious to them, and not just because I always find myself surprisingly religious whenever I have to get on a plane. Interminal gets at a lot of this feeling.
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